


Black Winter

by emski



Series: Black Widow and The Winter Soldier [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Budapest, Comfort/Angst, Multi, Natasha Back-Story, Pre-MCU, Red Room
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 41,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emski/pseuds/emski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ordinary mission turns into a chance for Natalia Romanova to capture one of the most deadly assassins the world has ever known. But not everything is always just black and white.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - The Winter Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Italicized dialog denotes characters speaking in Russian.  
> (edit: I actually Italicized the Russian. For some reason, the format didn't stick last time.)
> 
> (I've edited this since it's original posting. A thanks to SiZodiac for their constructive criticism!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha goes head to head with the infamous Winter Soldier, capturing him for the KGB. But as his brain-washed mind slowly begins to connect the dots, Natasha becomes unsure of whether or not she wants to imprison a man forced against his will.

She stood her ground, her gun firmly in her hand. And he stood his, his gun inhumanly still, and pointed directly between her eyes. She dare not blink, he could pull that trigger in an instant. She knew who he was. He was infamous; an assassin. Not unlike herself. The sweat beads that had gathered on her forehead began to trail down to her eyes. She had to pull the trigger, but something was stopping her.

He was the Winter Soldier, and she knew what price he would have if she brought him back to the KGB alive. But bringing him back alive didn’t seem like an option at the moment. She was outrageously out matched.

But he didn’t fire, either. And there was no way he knew who she was. His mission was to kill his target, who he killed within a second of finding them. But now he did nothing. His cold, dead eyes focused on hers. Why didn’t he just kill her? What was stopping him?

The warehouse they both stood in was rather large, covered floor-to-ceiling with boxes and crates. The air was crisp from the Russian winter that brewed outside, and musty because of the aging wood beams. As Natasha nervously exhaled, her breath was clearly visible.

The tension became unbearable, and Natasha dropped to her hands and kicked in his left knee. He quickly fell to his rear, his gun slid across the room. She returned to her feet. Now, she had the upper hand. He didn’t dare move. She let out a short laugh. This was the infamous Winter Soldier, and he was in her hands.

The KGB would reward her handsomely. But how was she going to get him there alive? She thought a moment, then brought the butt of her gun forcefully on his head. The soldier fell to the ground with a grunt. He was certainly much larger and more built than Natasha, but she threw him over her shoulder with ease. He wasn’t as heavy as he looked.

Natasha knew he wouldn’t stay out for long, and headed for her nearby safe house to store him while she came up with a plan. The streets of St. Petersburg were covered in snow and hurried people. No one noticed or cared that Natasha rushed through the streets with an unconscious man over her shoulder. This fact made her laugh briefly to herself, how corrupt the regime really was.

Her safe house wasn’t a long way from the warehouse, and Natasha quickly locked the door the second she stepped inside. She leaned the soldier up against the wall. A set of iron handcuffs hung wielded to the wall. Natasha unlocked the cuffs and put his arms in. They were strong enough to hold the many who had sat in that spot before him, and Natasha had no doubt they would hold him as well.  
The safe house was more an apartment, and the apartment was more like a closet; enough room for a bed and a table and a door to the even smaller bathroom. But it was safe...ish. And that’s all Natasha needed.

She sat on the bed, bringing her thighs to her chest, resting her elbows on her knees. She held her gun, pointing it at the soldier. Ready for when he woke up. Which was a bit longer than she expected. He began pulling his arms away from the way, desperately trying to get the cuffs or the chains to break, but to no prevail.

“ _Let me go_ ”, he said in a low, gruff, hoarse voice.

Natasha smirked, “ _Sucks beginning tied up like that, doesn’t it?_ ”

The soldier stopped struggling and looked to Natasha, not really noticing her until she spoke. “ _What do you want from me?_ ”

Natasha tapped her fingers on her gun.” _Some answers. Who are you?_ ”

Of course, she knew the answer to this question. He was the Winter Soldier, but he hadn’t always been, and most records didn't have his true identity. He blinked a few times, looked around the room, then back to her. “ _What?_ ”

Natasha didn’t get why he didn’t understand the question. “ _Who are you? What is your name? Who do you work for?_ ”

Again, the soldier blinked a few times. He really didn’t know his name. Had he ever been called by a name? Did his superiors ever address him with a name? Natasha jumped off the bed and stood a few steps away from him. “ _Okay, then tell me who you work for_.”

This time, the soldier glared. He knew, but by the stiffness of his lip, and the coldness in his eyes, Natasha could tell he wasn’t about to spill.

“ _Fine_.” Natasha struck her hand forcefully against his face. “ _Let’s try this again. Who do you work for?_ ”

The soldier said nothing, and just glared. Natasha stepped closer, so her face was inches from him. “ _This would be a lot easier if you would just give me an answer._ ” Natasha teased. The soldier snapped and again tried to pull away from the wall, but stopping before he could get anywhere near her.

Natasha paced around the room once, then again. “ _Professor Vadim Anatkov had to have been quite important for them to have sent you out to get him. Why did he have to die? What did he know?_ ”

Still, no answer. Natasha sighed. She was certain that the chains would hold, and decided to shower. She’d let him wait and see if the boredom would do anything for him. She gave him a once over, then walked into the bathroom.

The water was freezing, but that’s all she had, and she was never one for complaining. She walked out of the bathroom, dressed, with her hair wrapped in a towel. She kept her eyes on the soldier. He flicked his eyes up to her. “ _So, got anything for me yet?_ ”

He glared. “ _No, nothing? Suit yourself._ ”

Natasha walked back into the bathroom, and some time later, walked back out. This time, with the towel gone and her hair dry. She didn’t speak, only kept her eyes on the soldier, as he kept his on her. She held her gun at her side, and the soldier eyed it. “ _You want this, don’t you? It would make everything so much easier. If you could get the gun, and kill me. If you had just killed me back at the warehouse._ ”

This riles him up again, pulling on the chains and yelling incoherently at her. _“Could you quiet down a bit, you’ll wake the neighbors._ ” Natasha snarked.

The soldier slumped back against the wall. They stared at each other, both of them studying the other. Natasha tried to figure out what would make him spill. She knew almost nothing about him, no way she’d dent the ego of someone who didn’t even have a name. And she doubted her seduction would peak the interest of his programmed mind.

A few short beeps filled the silence and Natasha moved over to her bed, taking a small device out from under her pillow. She flipped it open. “ _You were successful?_ ” a voice from the device asked.

“ _Yes, the target is dead._ ” She said, without breaking eye contact with the soldier.

“ _Professor Anatkov was a flight risk. You will be rewarded for neutralizing him._ ”

“ _There is also something else_.”

“ _What?_ ”

“ _A bonus. He was also sent after Anatkov, but I got the situation under control._ ”

“ _Who?_ ”

“ _The Winter Soldier._ ”

There was silence for a moment, then laughter. Natasha rolled her eyes. “ _The Winter Soldier. You must have no fear for your life to be making such dangerous promises._ ”

_“I speak the truth. He’s sitting right in front of me, and I have him completely under control.”_

He struggled again, then fell back against the wall. “ _If this is true, bring him to headquarters within the week. If you don’t, expect a few assassins on your trail, Ms. Romanova._ ”

Natasha closed the device and placed it back under the pillow. “ _Did you hear that? We’re going on a little trip._ ”

She walked closer to him. “ _Headquarters isn’t too far away. Luckily for me, they think I’m further away than I actually am. We have some extra time, just the two of us._ ”

The soldier said and did nothing. Natasha squinted, she didn’t like not being able to read her prisoners. The soldier’s eyes were empty, and he had only said a few words. She had nothing to go off of except that he was the Winter Soldier, that he was in St. Petersburg to kill Professor Anatkov, and that he was now sitting in her safe house chained to the wall. “ _Well, if that’s all you have to say, I’ll be back._ ”

Natasha walked into the bathroom and back out, pulling on her coat she was seen wearing earlier. “ _Don’t go anywhere, okay?_ ”

The soldier’s brow lowered. She knew if he were to ever get out of those chains, she’d be dead in seconds. But, she waved away the thought and headed out the door. She was sure those chains would hold.

She arrived back at the safe house the next morning to find the soldier asleep. Not to deeply, however, because with her first footstep, his eyes snapped open. He began struggling and pulling on the chains with such determination that Natasha began to worry that they wouldn’t hold. She pulled out her gun and held it ready. The cement around the chains began to crack and the soldier pulled the chains right from the wall, and darted toward Natasha.

She fired, hitting him in his side and his leg, but that didn’t stop him. He pushed past her, and ran out the door. She continued to fire as she pursued him down the hallway. He sped up making his way for the window at the end. Natasha fired, she had to stop him. She had made a guarantee, and she was not ready to be hunted down by the KGB.

 The Winter Soldier broke through the window and landed feet first in the alley way below. Natasha followed behind him, grappling to the roof to ensure a safe landing. She chased him through the streets. By this point, he had a few bullets in him, and it was showing. He was limping as he was running, and slowing slightly. Natasha knew it’d be quite a few bullets before he felt the pain enough to stop.

The soldier sped a few dozen feet ahead of her, and ran right into a busy street. He was too focused on outrunning her that he didn’t see the large semi and was hit, throwing him off to the side. Natasha darted through the remaining traffic. The winter soldier had to be delivered alive or else he was useless.

Natasha checked his pulse, which was still beating. He was out, either from the collision or hitting the ground. A small crowd had began to form, and Natasha bent down to pick him up when his left hand popped up, wrapping his metal fingers around her neck. She fought to breathe, and struggled to get her gun. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out, firing a shot right into his heart. It knocked enough out of him to let go, sending Natasha to her knees, and the soldier to his rear. Natasha stood and brought the butt of her gun down on his head again. She breathed heavily, “ _This better be worth it._ ”

This time, he was out for at least a day. This gave Natasha time to figure out a different way to secure him. She got new chains and wielded them to multiple points on the wall and floor. She fastened his arms and this time also his feet so he had no leverage. When he came to he didn’t struggle. “ _Learn your lesson_?” Natasha teased.

He glared. “ _Anything you want to tell me?_ ”

He’s expression changed, and it was suddenly filled with fear. He began to sweat and shout “no” in English. He stopped after a few minutes, but this made the mystery of who he is and was a bit more interesting. He knew English, but that wasn’t surprising, most international assassins did. His glare returned, and he directed it at Natasha.

“ _They’ll be looking for me._ ”

“ _Who will?_ ”

 _“I was supposed to report back as soon as my mission was carried out._ ”

“ _Who are you supposed to report back to? Who gives you your orders?_ ”

The soldier said nothing. Natasha walked closer to him, a punched him. “ _Who gives you our orders?_ ”

No response. “ _Who?_ ” Punch. “ _Gives?_ ” Punch. “ _You your?_ ” Punch. “ _Orders?_ ” Punch.

Natasha steamed. The soldier glared. “HYDRA.” he said blankly. Natasha stepped back.

“ _HYDRA? You’re joking, right? You expect me to believe that? Everyone knows that HYDRA was shut down back during World War II._ ”

“ _They are mistaken._ ” He growled.

Natasha disregarded the mentions of HYDRA, he obviously wasn’t going to tell her who he was really working for. “ _How long have you been on this mission?_ ”

The soldier glared, he puffed up his chest in an inhale, then exhaled. “ _Two months_.”

“ _Now we’re getting somewhere. What was the assignment_?”

“ _To kill Professor Vadim Anatkov._ ”

Natasha shook her head, “ _No, the whole assignment. Why Anatkov?_ ”

“ _He was a liability._ ”

“ _Why?_ ”

The soldier blinked a few times, then moved his eyes around the room. “ _32557._ ”

“ _What?_ ”

“ _32557\. 32557. 32557._ ”

Natasha lowered her eyebrows. The numbers meant nothing to her, and meant nothing in regards to Anatkov. Maybe it was his designation for the organization he worked for. Not HYDRA. But, maybe it was HYDRA. Could it be HYDRA? It had been shut down, all it’s members either killed or locked away. But, anything is possible, Natasha thought. Though HYDRA still being in service didn’t really help her in the current situation. The soldier still sat, chained up, repeating the same numbers over and over again.

“ _What do those numbers mean?_ ”

The soldier stopped and looked at her. “ _I don’t know._ ”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. Maybe this was a bit of the Winter Soldier’s past self poking through. He stopped with the numbers and just focused on scoping out the room again.

“ _So, HYDRA._ ” Natasha decided to play along. “ _They don’t mind me knowing who you work for, or that they’re still around after all these years?_ ”

The soldier broke his eye contact, and moved his eyes to the floor. He stared blankly. There was nothing behind his eyes. “ _I don’t care._ ”

“ _Don’t care? What’ll they do if they find out?_ ”

He flicked his eyes to her. Now they were full of rage, Natasha figured she pissed him off. She tightened her grip on the gun. “ _Wipe me, and start again,_ ” he grimaced.

Natasha clicked her teeth together. “ _They brain-wash you?_ ”

The soldier didn’t answer. “ _How often do they ‘wipe’ you?_ ”

Natasha sighed, “ _After every mission?_ ” The soldier nodded slowly.

She paced around the room. The soldier no longer kept a solid glare on her, instead his eyes darted around. His cold, collected stature began to fade. Two months had been too long since his last wipe.

“ _Why haven’t you been wiped in two months?_ ”

“ _I wasn’t done with my mission._ ”

“ _Well, why did it take so long?_ ”

“ _There was trouble. I was attacked. They almost compromised me, but I got free. They were HYDRA agents._ ”

This brought a whole new level of confusion. If HYDRA was really holding the Winter Soldier’s reigns, why would they want to destroy him? He was their greatest weapon.

“ _Why?_ ”

 _“I hadn’t completed the mission, they were trying to take me back, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t completed the mission._ ”

 Not kill him. Just reset him. Why would they have him disband his mission if they knew he wasn’t done? Was there something more important? Possibly, but he could also be lying. Natasha still didn’t believe that this was HYDRA. Either way, he didn’t break his original orders even when he was given new ones.

They created too perfect of a weapon, one that would complete his mission no matter what. He ran from his superiors in order to finish the mission they assigned him, and they still haven’t found him. But now he can’t get new orders, he has no mission. Natasha figured the longer he was away from his superiors, the more he would crumble. Without orders, what is he? Who is he? Questions like that could break someone who can never possibly have the answers. “ _Why did they want to bring you back?_ ”

“ _I don’t know._ ”

Natasha gave up on twenty-questions, and decided to go for something a bit more general, “ _What do you know?_ ”

The soldier again looked around the room. “ _HYDRA agent, code-name: Winter Soldier. My mission was to kill Professor Vadim Antakov. Mission: successful._ ”

Natasha began to tune him out, as he repeated the same thing again, and again. Not breaking the monotonous mantra.

“ _Mission: successful. Mission:_ successful. Mission--”

He stopped suddenly. Natasha turned to him. He sat silently. He didn’t move a muscle. Why did he suddenly switch to English? “ _Trying out something different?_ ”

The soldier looked around the room, then back at her, with a look of utter confusion on his face. Natasha figured that he didn’t even know he had just spoken in English. “ _What are you talking about?_ ”

“ _You just spoke in English_.”

“No I didn’t.”

Natasha crossed her arms, “You just did it again.”

“You speak English?”

Natasha grinded her teeth, “Yes, and so can you. You just spoke in English.”

“English?”

“Yes.”

He was like a child, learning a word for the first time. He remembers his training, how to handle a gun, how to fight, but he forgets himself completely. Well, not completely, since he seemed to be struggling to connect the dots.

“English feels more natural than Russian.” He spoke in an American accent. This was the first opinion he’d expressed. Natasha cracked her knuckles, “What are you playing?”

“What?”

“ _What is your real mission? Why are you really here? And don’t give me some bullshit about Antakov or an_ ‘I don’t know’.”

“HYDRA--”

“No, HYDRA is gone. _Try again._ ”

“My mission was to kill Professor Vadim Antakov--”

 _“No._ ”

“--Mission: successful. I require new orders.”

“ _Good luck with that._ ”

“32557. 32557. 32557.”

Natasha tried to tune out his repeated numbers. She slept in the bathtub, where there was at least a door between them. She got a good 4-5 hours of sleep when the soldier began to yell again. Natasha covered her ears, trying just to ignore him. Trying to just get some sleep. In the morning she’d take him to headquarters, and he’d be off her hands. It wasn’t long before he stopped screaming and returned to repeating words. He was speaking quietly enough that it didn’t bother Natasha.

A few hours later, she heard a crash from the bedroom, and quickly grabbed her gun. In the bedroom stood two dark figures. The window was broken, and the hole-filled curtains blew in the crisp wind. “ _Ms. Romanov, you’re late_.”

Natasha rubbed her eyes, she was not in the mood for this. “ _I have another 5 days to report back._ ”

“ _The boss gave you the time because he assumed you were that far away, not in some pig-sty in St. Petersburg._ ”

 _“I would have gotten the soldier to him with no problem._ ”

“ _We don’t doubt that, Ms. Romanov. But this way we’ll assure that he is._ ”

One of the dark figures bent down to unlock the cuffs. Natasha stepped back, knowing that the winter soldier would beat the crap out of the henchmen for her. The other one, walked over to Natasha, grabbing her and holding a gun to her head. “ _What are you doing?”_

“ _Oh, the boss said to get rid of you. That he was tired of your shenanigans._ ”

“ _Shenanigans? I got him the Winter Soldier!_ ”

“ _And he thanks you, but you’re too much of a risk._ ”

The dark figure unlocking the cuffs finished, and right on cue, the Winter Soldier punched him in the gut, kicked out his legs and knocked him out cold. The one holding onto Natasha let go and walked over only to be punched, and have his necked snapped. Natasha picked up her gun from the ground and pointed it at the Winter Soldier. “ _Is it my turn now?_ ”

“No, _Ms. Romanov_.”

“Are you going to run?”

“No.”

No? Something must’ve clicked in him the night before. Maybe through all those screams something broke in him that made him never want to take orders again, from HYDRA, if he was telling the truth, or from anyone. “Well, I’m going to. You’re welcome to join me.”

Natasha decided to go along with his schtick. She figured it was some organizations way of infiltrating the KGB, but since they’d recently turned on her, her loyalties no longer belonged to them. Natasha lowered her gun as she scrambled around the room, getting all of her emergency supplies together. The final piece was her communication device. She threw it on the ground and crushed it with her heel. All the while, the soldier stood and watched her. He didn’t try to run, he didn’t try to hurt her. “Why do you want me to come with you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I killed all those people.”

Natasha turned to him. “And it’s all my fault. They’re all dead. Professor Anatakov begged for mercy and I killed him.”

She watched him as he struggled with this information, the first time he’s probably ever doubted his orders. He inhaled and exhaled a few heavy breaths, then looked into Natasha’s eyes, “I’m I supposed to kill you?”

Natasha knew he wasn’t really asking her, but was trying to assess the situation. Natasha had probably been the first person in years he’d talked to without having orders to kill them. “You’ve already tried, but I guess that’s up to you.”

A choice. She gave him a choice, and he didn’t understand. He looked around the room, landing on every object and staring. He made his way across the room to Natasha, and to her gun. “You’re going to kill me.”

Natasha looked at her gun, then back to the soldier. Was she going to kill him? It would be a better fate than letting him go and the KGB picking him up for tests to figure out how he’s been around since right after World War II. But for some reason, Natasha couldn’t bring herself to kill him. Something about him made her stop, maybe that he’d just saved her life. But she doubted the inkling of trust she was gaining. She looked back to the soldier. “No. I’m not going to kill you,” She took a breath, “I’m going to help you.” She said, half telling the truth, half playing along with his game.

“Help me?”

“Yeah, I’m going to help you figure out who you are. I’m not going to let HYDRA capture you and wipe you again.”

“Why?”

Why? Yes, why was she helping him? Was it really just to play his game? Or was it something more? Was it repaying him for her life? Was it empathy? Was it sympathy? Was it guilt for her own wrong doings? That she saw the similarities in their situations, the order to kill so ingrained in their heads?

“Because I understand. I understand what it’s like to be forced to kill.”

“You’re an assassin?”

“Yeah.” Now it was Natasha’s turn to get cryptic.

The soldier’s interest, if it even existed, seemed to be peaked. “For how long?”

“A long time.”

The soldier nodded slowly. His hair falling into his face. He had a bit of a beard, which further proved his claim of being on this mission for two months. Natasha figured that shaving wasn’t part of his training.

“I remember a name.”

“Is it yours?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s the name? It might help.”

“Steve.”


	2. 32557

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha aids the Winter Soldier in discovering who he was before he was brainwashed while on the run from the KGB.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Italicized dialog denotes the character speaking in Russian.
> 
> (Thanks for all the kudos and comments! It means a lot!)

Natasha blinked a few times. Steve was a fairly common name, it would take a long time to go through all the Steves in the KGB database. But it was a start. “And you’re not sure if it’s your name?”

“Steve,” He said again, “Steve. Steve? Steve.” He repeated the name a few times, sounding out the syllables. His eyes searched around the room, he was becoming increasingly distressed. Natasha figured she should calm him down before he became violent. But he suddenly stopped and turned his eyes to her, “No. It’s not my name. I- I remember,” He struggled, “I remember saying the name. Steve. Steve.”

“Did you have a friend named Steve?”

“Friend?” The soldier said, trying that word out in his mind. Natasha wondered if he knew what a friend was. He stood staring blankly for a few moments. Natasha let him, and walked over to the window, checking to see if there were anymore visitors. She drew the curtains shut and turned back to him. “We have to leave now. Before anyone else finds us.”

The soldier nodded. Natasha grabbed her bag and headed for the door. She opened it and waited for the soldier to step through first. She wasn’t about to turn her back on him or let him out of her sight. After what he had done to the henchmen earlier, the quickness and ease of his motions, it was like watching choreography. Practiced, planned and perfect.  He didn’t let them have the upperhand for a second. She knew he would be a helpful ally. She could get out of the Soviet Union and onto safe soil with relatively no hassle.

He shuffled in front of her, still limping from the bullets. And getting hit by the semi didn’t help him much. Natasha wondered if she should help him with his wounds. But he didn’t seem in too much pain, and she wasn’t about to get all touchy feely with the worlds most feared assassin.

 

As they stepped outside, the bright sun created a distracting glare on the soldier’s metal arm. Natasha realized he stuck out like a sore thumb. A guy walking around with a large metal arm was surely going to turn some heads, and that was the exact opposite of what they needed.

Natasha motioned for him to follow her, and they made their way through the alleys, coming upon a run-down store front. They walked in, causing a small bell to chime. The store clerk flipped her head to the door with a slight amount of fear, which faded the second she landed on Natasha’s face. “ _Natalia!_ ” She praised, “ _What do you need? As always, anything is yours._ ”

The woman moved her eyes to the soldier, “ _Who’s your friend?_ ”

Natasha glanced at the soldier, then looked back to the woman, “ _Not friends just… comrades._ ”

The woman smiled and nodded. “ _My… comrade here, as you can see, has a bit of tractable physical attribute._ ” Natasha said, not only referring to his shiny metal arm, but also the commando/assassin get-up his was sporting, “ _He needs a look that is more, under the radar._ ”

The woman nodded, looked him once over, then heading into the back.

“ _Natalia._ ”

Natasha moved her eyes to the soldier, he was staring at her pensively. “ _Natalia Romanova._ ”

Natasha nodded slowly. The soldier said her name stressing every letter, making sure he wouldn’t forget it. Natasha studied the soldier, the look in his eyes had faded from an emptiness to a fatigue. A few specks of blood, from the ordeal with the henchmen, dotted his face. She figured he’d need to be cleaned up as well.

The woman came out from the back with a stack of dark clothes, handing them to the soldier. He looked down at them then to Natasha. “ _They’re clothes. You need to change into them._ ”

The woman nodded, “ _There’s a room in the back, I’ll show you._ ”

“ _Does it have a shower?_ ” Natasha questioned.

“ _Yes, the water’s cold, but it runs_.”

The woman headed to the back, again, and Natasha motioned for the soldier to follow, Natasha trailing behind him. “ _Here you go._ ” The woman motioned for a curtained off doorway. The soldier didn’t move and looked to Natasha. She sighed and opened up the curtain. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”

Natasha stiffened her upper lip in annoyance. “You don’t. You’ll just have to trust me.”

The soldier sighed and looked to his clothes. “Just wash up and change. Then we can be on our way.”

He stepped inside the room, and Natasha closed the curtain behind him. She turns to the woman, “ _Sorry, he switches to English to try to annoy me._ ”

“ _Not a problem._ ” The woman looked around for a moment, “ _Well, if you’re all set, I’ll return to the front._ ”

“ _Alright, thank you._ ”

The woman turned and left. Natasha leaned up against the wall, resting her head back. A moment later, he emerged from the room, unchanged. He didn’t meet Natasha’s eyes, his face full of dismay. “Need help?”

He sighed and nodded. Natasha followed him back into the small room. She kept her senses peaked, in case he was trying to trick her. She figured that he needed her help not because he didn’t know how to dress himself, but that the pain from his injuries had really started kicking in. Natasha undid the buckles that held his jacket in place, and carefully slid the sleeves off his arms. The tank-top he wore underneath was completely soaked in blood. Natasha moved her eyes over the bullet holes that she had put there. She motioned for him to lift his arms up and pulled the tank-top off over his head.

His injuries had healed mostly. Natasha figured that whatever made him live for this long also sped up his healing process. Natasha removed a cloth from the shower stall and ran it under the water for a few moments. She turned back to him. He looked wary of the situation. “I’m not going to hurt you. This might sting a bit, but I have to clean you up.”

The soldier nodded. Natasha moved closer to him. He grimaced as she dabbed the wounds and whispered short sorrys in English. After the wounds were clean, she ran the rag under the water again, and washed off the rest of the blood.

She threw the rag in the stall and looked back to the soldier. His hair and beard were a bit unsightly, but she wasn’t about to force sharp objects near him. She didn’t want him to feel threatened by her. She knew what he did to people who threatened him. Natasha figured she’d at least give him the choice, “Want to shave?”

He blinked at her a few times. She stroked her cheeks with her hands, “Shave your beard?”

He ran his hands over his beard and looked into the mirror. “I guess.” he said in a low voice. Natasha opened the cabinet below the sink and found shaving cream and a razor. She motioned for him to hold out his hand and put a dollop of shaving cream into his palm, then motioned for him to put it on his face. He did as he was told, he seemed to respond well to orders, though Natasha wasn’t entirely comfortable with furthering his acceptance of them.

Natasha brought the razor to his face slowly, showing him that her intentions were not of harm. She moved cautiously down his face. It was awhile before she had finished, but when Natasha saw the soldier without the beard, she realized how young he actually was. He still had the deep, dark circles under his eyes, but the beard had aged him at least 15 years. Natasha figured he wasn’t too much older than she was when he first became the Winter Soldier.

Natasha dressed him in the clothes that the woman had provided. He looked smaller and less menacing in the civilian clothes. That didn’t fool Natasha. She still knew what he was capable of, but now, no else would see it coming. And the element of surprise was always helpful. Natasha motioned for him to leave the room, and then she followed.

Back in the store front, the woman was sitting at the counter. She slightly smiled as she saw them walk in. “ _Find everything you needed?_ ”

Natasha nodded. “ _I got some rations out. Figured you’d be needing food._ ”

The woman picked up the rations from the counter and handed them to Natasha. “ _Thank you._ ” Natasha said, as she unzipped her bag and put the rations in.

She zipped the bag and looked to the soldier. She wondered when he last ate, or if he ate for that matter. They’d cross that bridge later. For now they needed to get out of St. Petersburg. Natasha again thanked the woman before they left.

 

They traveled by alley ways to a train station. Natasha pulled two tickets from her bag and showed them to the teller, who nodded and waved them along. They took their seats on the train, the soldier had the window seat, his eyes immediately falling to the window. He forcefully exhaled, “I don’t like trains.”

Natasha twisted her head to him, “Why is that?”

“I-- I don’t know.”

Natasha nodded, she wasn’t in any position to try to comfort him. She turned her eyes back to the rest of the train, assessing her fellow passengers. She eyed the emergency exit near the back of the car, just in case.

The train took them from St. Petersburg to Minsk where there was an abandoned KGB base. Natasha knew she could get the computers up and running again. There they could find some answers about who the Winter Soldier was, and what a guy named Steve had to do with him.

 

It was the next day before they have arrived. Thankfully, there was no trouble or outbursts and neither of them said a word. As they exited, Natasha lead the soldier to the base. It wasn’t far from the train stop.

The base was an old warehouse. In better shape on the inside than on the out, Natasha hoped the computers weren’t damaged over the years. The door was only barricaded by a few wood planks which were no trouble for the soldier to pull off. Natasha let him step in first and they made their way down a set of stairs.

The computer was old, and therefore large. It took up the entire room it was placed in. Natasha crossed her fingers that there was still power running to the building. She walked over to a power plug halfway in a large socket in the wall. She grabbed the sides and pushed it the rest of the way in.

The computer hummed and beeped as all of it’s systems booted up. Natasha walked over to the command console. The monitor asked for a password. Natasha assumed it was the standard issue clearance code from around the time this place was in service, and she was right. A larger screen built into the wall light up, a cursor flashed in the command prompt. Natasha looked over to the soldier, who seemed slightly mesmerized by the display. “Is Steve all you’ve got?”

The soldier looked to her, then off to the side. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was putting every inch of his energy into trying to pull out something from his past memory. He nodded, defeated by the gaps in memory. “Okay.”

Natasha typed Steve into the database. She figured she would need to add a time frame. Steve was a pretty common name, and the soldier was remembering something from before he was the Winter Soldier. Natasha knew the Winter Soldier emerged after the Second World War, which ended in 1945 and she guessed that he was between the ages of 25 and 30 when he was first brainwashed. She finished the search with the dates 1915 - 1945 to give the computer, and herself, a bit less to search through.

Over a million files were found, and Natasha was not in the mood to even try and start digging through them. She turned to the soldier again. “Sure you got nothing else?”

“32557.”

It was that same number again. “I still don’t understand what that means.”

“Sergeant, 32557… Sergeant? Sergeant.”

Sergeant. An army rank. Was it his rank? Natasha guessed that the soldier, or Steve, had served in World War II, which wasn’t much of a stretch. Most young men did during that time. 32557 must have been his serial number. The rank didn’t narrow down where he was from, over 20 countries militaries used Sergeant.

There wasn’t any solid evidence that this was a true assessment of what the soldier was going on about, but it was something. Natasha typed: Steve 1915 - 1945 Sergeant 32557.

This narrowed the search. This time, only about 100 files were found. The first one: Captain Rogers, Steven Grant.

The soldier narrowed his eyes on the screen. Natasha could tell he was thinking. She sincerely hoped that this was the Steve he was talking about. But how did the rank Sergeant fit into it? This Steve’s rank was Captain. Natasha opened the file.

Captain Rogers, Steven Grant -- Captain America

1918 - 1943

Captain America? Was this really the Steve that the soldier was talking about? Captain America had been an experiment, a super-soldier. Natasha had heard of him before, indirectly when she heard of scientists trying to recreate the super soldier serum that had worked so well on him.

But his name was Steve. He lived in the right time frame for the soldier to have known him, but a lot of people knew of him during that time. He was a bit of a mascot. Still, Natasha didn’t understand why Sergeant and 32557 took her to this file.

She glanced over to the soldier, who had a look of realization in his eyes. Something was clicking, something was coming back to him, “Steve.” he said, hollowly.

Natasha searched for the direct mention of Sergeant and 32557 in the file and it took her to a section about a friend of the Captain who had also served in the war. Sergeant James Barnes. Natasha opened his file:

Sergeant Barnes, James Buchanan

1917 - 1943

A picture of Sergeant Barnes was included in the file and Natasha had no doubt that James Buchanan Barnes and the Winter Soldier were one and the same. He was much more clean cut in the photo. His hair short and his uniform sharp. Natasha looked over to the recently discovered Sergeant to see if it rang any bells.

He blinked a few times, carefully reading every word that was displayed on the screen. “That’s me?”

Natasha nodded, “Appears so, Sergeant.”

“James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Yeah, that’s your name.”

James’ eyes widened and his shoulders drooped. “What is it?”

“I don’t remember that name.”

Natasha looked away from him. His own name didn’t ring a bell. She searched for something to say to help him out. For the first time she felt sorry for him. He had been a good man, his file talked about all that he had done. But he didn’t remember it. “Maybe you went by a nickname.”

James tilted his head. Natasha wasn’t sure whether or not he heard her, he seemed to focused on the file. He tucked his hair behind his ear, but each time he tried, it fell again in a second. Although he didn’t react to it in anyway, Natasha could tell it was bothering him.

James kept reading, his eyebrows raised. “Steve.” he said again.

Natasha looked at the screen, trying to figure out why he had repeated his forgotten friend’s name. A section of the file read:

Barnes’ childhood friend, Steven Rogers, affectionately called him Bucky.

Bucky.

“Bucky?” Natasha said outloud, testing it out for James. He flipped his head to her. His eyes were filled with something that sort of resembled happiness. Though, it seemed more in awe that he turned to her, finally having a part of himself that he remembered.

“Bucky. I remember Steve… he called me Bucky.”

The Winter Soldier, the Soviet Union’s most feared weapon, had been the right-hand man to Captain America. The universe sure did like irony.

Natasha assumed they were done, and began shutting down to the computer. When she finished, she turned to James, who was now on his knees holding his head, his face in a cold sweat. He had gone through this before, she knew the screaming would come next, but it would fade.

James had been stripped of his memories, who knows how many times. Now his programming was crumbling to pieces, and through the cracks came the memories that HYDRA, or whoever, had worked so hard to destroy. Natasha didn’t know exactly what he was remembering. Could have been good, or bad. Either way, an information overload like the one he just got, wasn’t going to settle in smoothly.

Natasha started up the computer again, studying as much information as she could about James while he had his breakdown. She figured it’d be helpful for him to have someone who knew what he did while he was still James Barnes.

Why was she so concerned about helping him? Helping a man that, five days ago, had tried to kill her. Was she still just playing along? Was there even a game to be played? With the state James was in, Natasha started to have her doubts that he was lying about his situation. Why would HYDRA, or whoever he was working for, go through so much trouble and risk just to get to her? Was wasn’t that key of a player in the KGB. Efficient, yes. Infamous, not quite.

Her under the radar tactics were what made her so efficient. There was no grand, “You’re the infamous Natalia Romanova” speech given by her targets before she assassinated them. It was get it and get out, no dramatics involved. The idea that James’ superiors had any notion of where he was, or what he was doing became absurd. Especially now that the assassin was on his knees, trying to wrap his head around memories they had purposefully erased.

James heaved. His hands dropped from his head to the floor in front of him as he tried to catch his breath. “You alright?” Natasha wanted to keep moving, she figured the computer would send some sort of signal warning of it’s reboot and she wanted both of them out of there before any KGB goons could jump on their trail.

 James nodded his head, “I just need to catch my breath.”

He spoke more completely, more naturally. More like a human and less like a machine. He got himself to his feet and nodded again at Natasha, his hair falling into his face. He brushed it aside, but it fell again. “I really hate having longer hair.”

Natasha caught herself almost smiling. The attitude was definitely bits of James poking through. He still had the cold expression on his face, but his words were more purposeful, his tone more passionate.  He felt. He had opinions. Natasha had seen how annoyed he was at hair a few minutes before, but the breakdown he had just suffered broke a wall down and instead of ignoring his discomforts, he was expressing them. Natasha worried if his wounds would start to bother him, but she wasn’t going to talk about them until he mentioned it.

“So, ready to go then?”

James nodded, “Yeah, I guess.”

 

They walked back out into the crisp cold air. James watched his surroundings, studying every building and every passerby with curiosity instead of examining them as if they were a threat as he had done when they walked in. He walked a bit closer to Natasha, but still payed her little attention. Glancing only every once in a while as if he were checking to see if she was still there, and hadn’t left him.

“I did some bad things,” James said, as they neared the train station.

Natasha figured he had remembered some of his past missions as the Winter Soldier during his breakdown. She nodded sympathetically. “It’s something we have in common.”

“Does that make me a bad person?”

“That we have something in common?” Natasha tried to lighten the mood.

“No, that I- that I killed those people.”

Natasha never really thought about it. What she was doing, or why she was doing it. She had always been a spy, been an assassin. Since before she could remember, she could hold a gun, shoot a target. She never questioned her actions, they were orders and she followed them. Did that make her a bad person? If she assassinated those people against her will? Did that make James a bad person? Natasha had been raised a killer, but James certainly had less of a say in the situation than she did.

“No, you had no choice.”

James’ nose crinkled, “But they’re dead because of me.”

Natasha stopped and turned to James, her hands on her hips. “What do want me to say? That you’re a bad person? You killed those people because your superiors brain-washed you into follow their every command. You’ve never known any different. They trained to fight and to kill. And they never gave you a choice. Now you have a choice, are you still going to kill? That’s the dividing line.”

James tilted his head, “Are you talking about me, or you?” his tone was more curiously questioning than accusing.

Natasha raised her eyebrows, “What?”

“You told me you were an assassin. Were you trying to justify my actions, or yours?”

Natasha didn’t know what to say. This was the most subjective she’d ever seen James, and what he was said was true. What Natasha had just told him did sound an awful lot like a defense for what she had been through. Though, she didn’t quite feel as guilty as James seemed to. And that worried her. “We aren’t bad people. We just do some questionable things, that all. Everyone does.”

“And that makes it okay?”

“I liked you better when you didn’t speak.”

Natasha tried to walk away, but James gripped her arm tightly with his left hand, stopping her in her tracks. “I’m just trying to figure out some things, okay? James Barnes was this war hero and all I can remember are the faces of the people the Winter Soldier killed. Steve called me Bucky, but I don’t feel I’ll ever be worthy of that name.”

He was breathing heavily again, and Natasha wasn’t ready to deal with an episode in public. She lead him to an alley way and helped him down to a sitting position. He held his head in his hands and rocked back and forth. She still didn’t know how to comfort him.

James was quiet this time. And Natasha left him to his own thoughts. They walked without a word back to the train station. Again, Natasha pulled out two train tickets, and again James sat in the window seat. He’d stopped heaving and the sweat had faded from his face.

 

Over the days and weeks that followed, the silence grew. The only words spoken were during James’ episodes where he would shout names, phrases or places. Steve came up more than anything else. For some reason, James repeating his rank, name and serial number seemed to calm him down. And that’s the last thing he would say before again falling into a seemingly eternal silence.

Natasha wasn’t lonely, she did think she could even feel lonely anymore after all the time she had spent solitary on missions. With James constant presence, she felt as if she had to reach out to him. But, she didn’t know how to comfort, she had never been comforted in her life. The most kindness she received was the generosity of the woman at the supply shop, and she never even took the time to learn her name.

She began to lose track of which train tickets she’d flash the teller. All she knew was that they had to keep moving, at least until the KGB simmered down their search a bit. It had only been a little over a month since they decided to get rid of her, and an on-the-loose assassin wasn’t really something anyone wanted to deal with. Especially when they had the Winter Soldier as their side-kick.

All the safe houses they stayed at were small, only room enough for one bed because Natasha had never needed more. She and James took turns with the beds, one night James would take it and the other Natasha would. There was no spoken agreement between the two, they just got into the habit of switching.

Natasha would always let James have the bed on days where his episodes were the worse, which were frequent. But after every episode, a bit of the coldness in James’ expression would fade. And everyday he seemed to grow more and more human.

Natasha’s only real indicator of the passage of time was the increasingly warmer days and nights. Unfortunately, most of the safe houses weren’t fitted with any sort of air conditioning unit.

On a particularly hot night, Natasha sat in the frame of the room’s large, opened window. James walked into the room from the attached bathroom, having just showered. Natasha watched him as he entered, his hair was cut shorter. Not Sergeant Barnes short, but short enough that when James bent to pick up a shirt off the ground, his hair didn’t fall in his eyes. James caught Natasha watching him, and she quickly turned back to the window.

James broke the silence, _“Natalia?”_ His tone was warm and almost sweet.

“Yes?” She answered without looking. It was the first word he had spoken to her in months.

“Why are you helping me?”

Natasha looked at the ground. James stepped a bit closer “If you’re an assassin, why haven’t you killed me?”

“Because you aren’t my target.”

“Who is?”

Natasha clenched her teeth. “Nobody, not anymore.”

“I’m an assassin. Don’t you worry I might kill you?”

“Worry is a weakness. And I know you won’t kill me?”

“How?”

Natasha looked him in the eyes. “Because I know you don’t want to be the Winter Soldier anymore. You saw a glimpse of James Barnes and you want to work to be him again. To right your wrongs.”

"Is that what you want for yourself?”

Natasha moved her eyes to look out the window, breaking her contact with James. He continued to watch her, waiting for an answer. Maybe that is what she wanted. A change to the literal cut-throat lifestyle she’d been fed her entire life. And maybe helping James reform his life could get her on the path to reforming her’s.

“I think so.”


	3. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After discovering the Winter Soldier's past identity, Natasha and James decide to seek revenge on the people who forced them into their current situations, but first they must learn how to trust each other. If that’s even possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments! It means a lot! Enjoy the chapter!

“Then when do we start?” James pulled on his shirt and headed for Natasha’s bag. Natasha whipped her head to him, she watched as he walked up to her bag, unzipped it, and began digging around.

“If you’re looking for the guns, they aren’t there.” Natasha toyed, “You really thought I’d just leave a bag of artillery laying out in the open where any brainwashed assassin could reach it?”

James turned back to her, his jaw was stiff, “You still don’t trust me.”

Natasha shrugged, “You really expect me to?”

James nodded. Natasha folded her arms, “So, you’re saying you trust me?”

He blinked a few times. Natasha nodded, “That’s what I thought.”

She turned her head back out to the city scape. James sat down on the bed, folding his hands in his lap. “What can I do to make you trust me?”

Natasha folded her arms, “I don’t know. I’ve never trusted anyone in my life.” She said without turning to him.

James nodded slowly, “I’ve trusted people. I think.”

“You’re remembering more?”

He ran his right hand through his hair then rested it on the back of his neck. “I think so. Sometimes I can’t tell if I’m actually remembering things or if I’m just creating memories from what I read on the file.”

Natasha turned to him, “I read the file, tell me what you remember and if I don’t think I read it on the file, then it’s probably a real memory.”

“Okay.” James seemed reluctant, he massaged the back of his neck with his hand. Natasha could tell he didn’t trust her, even though he seemed like he wanted to. Like he wanted to have someone that was there for him. And Natasha, for a reason she couldn’t find, wanted to be that person for him. Maybe it’s that she wished she could meet someone who had known her as a child, before the KGB, so that Natasha could know who she was before she became a puzzle, made up of pieces of all the people she impersonated.

“There’s a memory, that I… uh, it’s not so much a picture in my mind as it is a feeling.”

Natasha sat, now facing completely towards him. She showed patience as he stumbled over his words, trying to best describe what was in his mind. “I’m happy, but I’m scared. I’m nervous. And I remember Steve, he’s there, and he’s feeling the same thing. I don’t know why it feels so important.”

“Do you remember when it happened? How old you were?”

James closed his eyes, his brows furrowed.  “I-I was wearing… my uniform. It was my last night before I shipped out.” He said with a dreary confidence. He reopened his eyes, they were brimming with unease, “I was scared I was going to die. So many people were dying in the war. I-I never could understand why Steve wanted to enlist so bad... That was 47 years ago.”

James froze. His face softened as the realization of the chunk of time he had missed consumed him. Natasha braced herself for another episode. But James did nothing, said nothing. Just remained frozen, blankly staring at the wall. “Steve’s dead now.” his tone was frigid.

Natasha nodded slowly. She wished that his friend was still alive, it would help James to have someone who was there with him when he was James Barnes. Steve could certainly fill the gaps. And Natasha wouldn’t have to worry about him.

Worry? Was she worried about him? She wasn’t sure, she’d never worried about another person ever. Another human experience she was never involved enough to have.

“I wish I had died in the war.” James’ voice was monotone, and he still had that dead look in his eyes. “None of this would have ever happened.”

Natasha stood. She wasn’t sure why, she felt an urge to comfort him. She still didn’t know how. James looked up to Natasha, the corners of her mouth turned slightly. “You’ll get your revenge. They may’ve stole your memories, but you can get those back. It’ll take time, but I have no doubt you will.”

“I’ll never be that guy again.”

“No, you’re right. But you might become someone better.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. Not with my track record.”

  
Natasha walked closer to James, “You were brainwashed and programmed to carry out any orders you were given. What you did wasn’t your choice. And, trust me, revenge will taste sweet.”

James raised his eyebrows,“You’re planning on getting revenge as well?”

“We can take down another intelligence agency while we’re at it.” Natasha smirked smugly. The corners of James’ mouth curled up into the closest thing to a smile Natasha had seen on him. It was joy, a very twisted kind of joy, but joy nonetheless.

“Then, do I get a gun?”

Natasha exhaled sharply. She didn’t trust the “ex”-assassin that much, not yet. She wasn’t sure how she was ever going to get to a place where she could. She figured she’d start small. She turned and sauntered into the bathroom. A moment later, she returned with a handgun and tossed it to James.

He caught it effortlessly with his left hand, then switched it to his right. He curled his fingers around the handle and the trigger, pointing the gun at the floor, then squeezing down tightly on the trigger.

Natasha didn’t even blink as the bullet exited the gun. James looked down to the floor, the bullet hadn’t made a mark. He swerved his head to Natasha, his eyes full of confusion. “They’re blanks, trigger happy.”

James huffed. “If you want a gun that really shoots, you have to prove to me that you can handle it.”

“I can handle it.”

“Is that why you just shot the floor?”

“I knew they were blanks.”

Natasha walked over and patted him on the back, “Sure you did.” Instinctively, James responded with an inhuman swiftness.  His left arm flew up, grabbing Natasha's wrist before she could touch him and his right brought the gun to her neck.  She let out a short grunt of pain and he turned to her. His eyes widened and he quickly released both her wrist and the gun, which clanked onto the floor. "Sorry."

"No. Don't be," she said, rubbing her wrist, "I should've known you were going to do that."

"It's not okay that I can't control myself."

"That's HYDRA's doing, not yours." Natasha said, not looking to him as she made her way back to her perch.

James looked down at his left arm, it reflected the minimal light the moon gave creating a metallic sheen. He cursed it under his breath. "I hate this thing."

Natasha stopped and turned to him. "Would you rather only have one arm."

James’ eyes flashed to Natasha, his lip quivered. "Even if we are successful, and we take down HYDRA or at least some of it, I'll still have this,” he stuck out his metal arm towards her,  “And every time  I look in the mirror and see this, I won't see James Barnes, I'll see the Winter Soldier."

Natasha sat on the windowsill again. “I guess you just have to do whatever is necessary to start seeing yourself in your reflection. At least you know what you’re looking for.”

The light breeze blew through Natasha’s hair, brushing it slightly on her cheeks. James retracted his arm and rested it on his lap. He looked down to the gun, then to Natasha. James tilted his head as he watched her.  She could feel his eyes on the back of her head, she figured he was trying to dissect her last statement.  “Do you mind?” She said, without even turning to him.

He frowned, “I’m going to sleep, you can have the bed.”

“You take it. I probably won’t sleep anyway.”

“Neither will I.”

Natasha stood and strode to the bathroom, “Take the bed anyway.”  

 

She closed the door behind her, and looked in the mirror. She felt like a puzzle, made up of mis-matched fragments of people who never really existed. She splashed water on her face, letting the numbingly cold water knock some sense into her. She’d never had an identity crisis before. She was Natalia Romanova, a KGB agent since age… well… Natasha was never sure how old she was when they started her, when they recruited her.

So, was Natalia Romanova even her real name? Or was it just another thing the KGB created for her? She looked at the face reflected back. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember anything before the KGB. Not one solid memory. Feelings? Some. Like James had said, he remembered how he was feeling in the memory. Natasha could relate, all her memories were like that.

None of them were remotely positive emotions. She always assumed that whoever she was before the KGB  wasn’t a remotely content person, but that person knew who she was. That person was free. And Natasha was held down by the unbreakable chains of her past.

Why did it take meeting the Winter Soldier -- James -- to really see how bad her situation was? The KGB had used her as a weapon, as a tool. No one saw her coming, and no one lived to see her leave. They experimented on her as well, though that part she didn’t mind as much. Natasha was certainly not as young as she appeared, and she carried the strength and stamina she had when she was actually that age.

The trade off, however, wasn’t worth it. She never had anything close to a family. The closest thing she had to friends was the occasional mission partner, the closest thing to a home was the safe houses she had hoarded over the years.  

Everything she had was because of the KGB, and everything she didn’t have was because of the KGB.

 

The hatred Natasha had for them burned through her veins. The moon shined, but she couldn’t sleep, she planned. Natasha took a device out of her bag that holographically displayed all KGB bases, and set it up on the floor. It appeared as a map, but was more versatile, with the ability to zoom in and out, and included a report on the bases; their functions, how many people were guarding it, what sort of security tech they had in place. It stretched across the open space of the room, drawing latitude and longitude lines. The light from the hologram underlit Natasha’s face with a faint blue.

James doze off a few times, he lounged on the bed, trying the hardest he could to keep his eyes open. When he was awake, he watched as Natasha planned, as she made note of every detail so nothing could go wrong. Her focus was as sharp as a predator stalking it’s prey.

Natasha spoke to herself under her breath in Russian, and when she’d mutter a particularly colorful string of words, the corner of James’ mouth would curve slightly, sleepily, upwards. She didn’t mind the sensation of his eyes on the back of her head. The sense of someone behind her only caused her to work faster, and more efficiently.

The sun rose over the hazy city-scape, and crept slowly through the window, creating a reflection on the floor. Beams of light rose onto James’ shut eyes. His eyelids flickered, and he jumped in response. Natasha looked to him, and he looked to her. Calmed by the rising sun framing her head. He rubbed his eyes, and lazily slid his eyes to the projection on the floor. “So, there’s a plan?”

Natasha nodded. “ _I have a couple bases_ \--,” she caught herself speaking in Russian. James didn’t seem to mind, but she apologized anyway. “I have a couple bases mapped out, they’re fairly close together and they aren’t huge bases, so they’re not that heavily guarded. But they’re big enough to be essential to the KGB.”

James diligently scanned the projection, “What about HYDRA?”

“Until you told me that they’re still around, I, and the entirety of the intelligence community,  thought they were gone. They were brought down during Word War II, so I don’t have any information on bases.”

James ignored Natasha comment and got off the bed, squatting down to get a closer look, “I remember the base where I was last dispatched from.” James brought his finger to the projection and slid it toward him, moving the map. He pointed to a ridged, raised portion of the map, “What mountains are those?”

Natasha flowed his finger to where he was pointing, “The Sayan’s. Is there a HYDRA base there?” she said with a trace of doubt in her voice.

“Yeah, that’s where I started this mission.”

“Okay,” Natasha zoomed out on the map. She pointed to a highlighted spot. “Here’s the closest KGB base to the HYDRA one. After we take down the KGB base, we can go to the HYDRA base, neutralize it, and get the location of other bases from the computers. I should be able to download the coordinates to this device. We’ll have a full map of every HYDRA and KGB base in the world.” She grinned manically.

James looked to her, and the corners of mouth turned upwards. “Do I get a gun now?”

“Would you be okay with knives?”

James’ expression turned cold. “Hey, I just need to see how fight with someone by your side. When was the last time you fought with a partner? How will I know you won’t just focus on your task and disregard any unnecessary casualties, like me for example.”

“Can I at least have the gun with the blanks?”

“It’s all yours.”

“And I’ll have the knives.”

“Sounds fine.”

“Killing with a knife is much slower. They deserve it.” James’ tone was as cold as when the Winter Soldier first spoke to Natasha, and it sent a chill down her spine. This was the guy she was risking her hide for? Going after a ghost base for? At the same time, she wasn’t going to get a better mission partner than the Winter Soldier. At least he had a length of experience close to Natasha’s.

 

Natasha turned off the device and placed in into her bag. She disappeared into the bathroom, then came out, fully dressed in her stealth uniform. James had also dressed, but he looked out of place in civilian clothes. Which was ironic, she kind of wished he still had his Winter Soldier uniform, it was much more intimidating. Though, the jacket he wore had a bit more of a military shape than most civilian clothes had. And if the rage filled look in his eyes was enough to alarm Natasha, she knew it’d do a number on the agents at the bases.

“When do we leave?” James asked, eagerly.

Natasha looked around the room once, then back to James. “Does now sound good to you?” 


	4. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trust begins to be gained. And though they still have their doubts about one   
> another, they go on their first mission: Redemption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter is the most gruesome I've written so far.

The Sayan mountains were fairly warm in the spring and summer months. The harsh snowfall of the winter was replaced by excessive rain. It wetted the ground, making it muddy and slick. The HYDRA base was embedded in the bottom of the mountain, it’s only entrance was a grate door. Natasha and James watched from their perch on the mountain on the other side of the valley. They laid on their stomachs, blocked by some brush. Natasha observed through a pair of binoculars. 

“That’s the only entrance.” James said.

Natasha zoomed in closer to a control panel next to the door. It was a bit far, but she could tell there was some sort of visual identification, not just a password, that was needed to enter. “You think they’d still let you in?” 

James turned to Natasha with a skeptical eye, “I’m their most valuable weapon. But, I doubt they’ll be happy to see me. Especially if I have a plus one.” 

“But, they’ll open the grate?” Natasha lowered her binoculars and looked directly into James’ eyes. All they needed was for the grate to open. The two of them could easily take out as many guards as the base sent after them. They needed an in and excess to a computer, no matter the cost. 

James must’ve read Natasha’s mind, “You don’t care how many people I kill?” 

“Why would I care? They’re HYDRA, they’re expendable.” 

James raised his eyebrows and nodded. He smirked devilishly, as if he’d been dreaming of the day that he could personally stick a knife in some of HYDRA’s agents. Natasha watched as his eyes danced with lunatical glee. James turned back to the grate. “So, when do we get started?” 

Natasha glanced down the mountain to find the smoothest descent. She had a grapple in her bag, as did James from his Winter Soldier utility belt. They made their way down the steep decline, and landed softly in the valley below, quickly ducking behind patch of brush just large enough to cover them. Two HYDRA guards toured around the entrance, sporting large guns of a high caliber. 

Natasha got James’ attention and motioned to the guards with her eyes. James observed them for a moment, then nodded back to Natasha. He held out a hand, signaling for her to stay there. She began to protest, but James was already out of the cover of the brush and heading stealthily and swiftly to the guards. One turned before he could reach them, causing James to hop back in surprise. “Hey, it’s him!” the guard exclaimed to the other. The other guard spun on her feet to see. “The Winter Soldier. He’s returned. After so many months of being AWOL,” she said with a level of annoyance in her voice.

Natasha watched nervously from the bushes. Nervously? Why was she nervous? When had she ever been nervous on a mission? The guards seemed to welcome him with open arms, but she feared it was a trap. And she knew James knew better than to trust them. He stood, staring blankly at them. He turned his eyes cold, he straightened his back and pulled back his shoulders. “My mission was successful,” he made his tone cold, like when she first met him. 

She figured he knew this was going to happen, or at least thought it would be a possibility. The guards nodded at his statement. “Well, they’re reading for you inside. We’ve been waiting.” 

James nodded and walked toward the door. The guard nearest the control panel pressed a few buttons. A light came on and moved across his face, opening the door. He motioned with his gun for James to enter. James looked to the ground and slowly made his way in. The two guards shared a quick glance, then charged him. 

He went full on Winter Soldier mode. He grabbed the first one’s gun, ramming the butt of it in his face. With a snap, his nose was broken, the bones piercing his skull. The second aimed her gun, James grabbed hers a well, twisting it and breaking all of the bones in her arms. She fell the ground, and let out a sharp howl. James bent down, holding her head firmly in his hands, and quickly snapped her neck. 

Everything fell silent. James painted and flicked his eyes up to meet Natasha’s beyond the brush. She stood and walked cautiously to him. After the anger he had just released, she wasn’t sure being close to him was going to benefit her health any. She approached him anyway, picking up the two large guns, strapping one to her back and holding the other in her hand. James stood still, staring out. “We don’t have a lot of time ‘til they figure out what happened here.” Natasha warned. 

James nodded. “You okay?” Natasha knew he wasn’t, he’d gone cold turkey for the past months, but she just wanted to know he was still there. That he was still the James that the months out of HYDRA had created. James nodded again, this time he looked to the bodies they laid at his feet. He raised his blood-covered hands slightly and gazed at them with a diluted horror. “I’ll be fine,” He pivoted his head to look at Natasha, “I’m still me.” 

Again, it was as if he was reading Natasha’s mind. He seemed to share the same worry as she did. That reintroducing murder would stimulate his Winter Soldier instincts and dismantle the efforts to bring back James Barnes. His hands shook slightly, whether it was from fear or thrill, Natasha wasn’t sure and she wasn’t about to ask either. Both choices were unpleasant in the current circumstances. 

James took a moment to breathe, and then they both headed inside. Natasha still didn’t trust him with one of the guns, so he turned to the assortment of knives she had provided. He removed one from his belt and held it firmly in his right hand, holding his left hand slightly raised in a fist. 

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. James and Natasha pressed their backs against the wall and waited. A group of six or so agents came pouring around the corner. James didn’t take a moment to think, he stabbed the first cleanly in the throat, while taking out a second with a left-elbow jab to the jaw. Both fell to the ground with a thud. Natasha hoisted her gun and fired a shot into the head of an agent, then another, then another. Both of the assassin's movements were cold and calculated, like it was second nature; muscle memory so ingrained in their minds.

In less than a minute, the six agents sent to disarm them were lying lifelessly on the floor. Blood flowed from their mangled bodies. Natasha and James stood above them, their eyes were emotionless. They didn’t make eye contact, they didn’t look down at the bodies. They stepped over the fallen and continued down the corridor. “Do you remember the layout of this place?” Natasha’s tone was cold but carried an edge of haste. 

James moved his eyes around the walls, nodding. “Yeah, I remember the general layout.” 

“General?” 

“I know how to get where we need to go.” 

And that’s what was important. Natasha wanted a quick get in, get out. The body count they’d already racked up was a bit high for her usually missions. She was normally more covert, more precise. She took down those necessary, and her target, and she was out. James’ plan of attack displayed clearly how the Winter Soldier went about his missions. He took down everyone in sight with quick and fatal blows. 

Natasha expected James to take a bit more time with the kills, taking time to get a little joy out of it. But he was emotionless. As the continued down the corridor, Natasha noticed that his hands no longer shook, his knife was steady in his right hand apt to sink into the next person that crossed their path. 

They approached the end of the corridor, which took another sharp turn. James stopped and moved against the wall. Natasha followed. “That’s the room.” James mouthed.

The room. Natasha guessed it was the room where they worked their magic on James’ brain. Washing away all that made him independent and molded him into a weapon. She knew that the deaths he would cause in this room would be more emotional and personal than the last. These were the people who had been taking his free will away. And he was going to make them pay. Trying to put a leash on the Winter Soldier was their biggest and last mistake. 

James sharply nodded, then spin around the corner, throwing the knife into one guard’s neck and stabbing the chest of the other. Natasha followed behind, pointing the guns to the bodies for good measure. James walked to the furthest guard, removing the knife from her neck, wiping the blood on his pants. He gripped a knife firmly in each hand, then kicked open the door. 

There were four scientists inside, all of them quickly pivoted to see the door. Their faces all melted into a mix of awe and horror. James stood motionlessly in the doorway, Natasha stood off to the side, she was giving him this moment all to himself. The scientist’s wide eyes and heaving chests didn’t guilt James for a second. He walked right up to the closest one to the door. “What’s the matter?” he teased, “Miss me?” 

The scientist attempted to answer, but babbled incoherently. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” 

James turned to the rest of the scientists, “Your perfect soldier gone for months. And you know how dangerous it is to let me go without a brain-wash for that long.” He stalked around the room, eyeing each scientist individually. None of them budged, they knew they were doomed. 

 

“You know what I’m capable of doing. You're the reason I am. But you never thought I’d turn. You never thought I’d break free. Neither did I. But here I am. Free. I’ve gotten most of my memories back. I’m some guy named James Barnes. And you see, James Barnes was some sort of war hero. He saved people. He had a set of morals. Thing is, while I am trying to gain my memories back, I am not him.” 

The scientists fear was papible. James pocketed the knife from his left hand and grabbed the closest scientist by the lab coat collar. “This is the beginning of my redemption,” James drove the right hand knife into the scientist’s gut, “I hope you rot in hell.” 

James released the scientist’s collar. The stab to the stomach hadn’t killed him, and he laid on the floor in pain and anguish as James let him bleed to death. He again turned to the other three scientists. “Who’s next?” he asked, twirling his knife in his hand. 

He maimed the other three in various ways. Giving them all fatal wounds, and allowing them to suffer a while before their deaths. They screamed for help and mercy, but neither was given. Not one was spared. 

When the screaming stopped, Natasha poked her head into the room, to see the scientists all lying on the floor. Blood was spilled on the floor and spattered on the walls. James had chosen a different form of punishment for each, one of them was missing what James could cut off of their left arm, no doubt in reflection of his own dismemberment. 

James himself was the most haunting of all. He stood at the center of the room, his knife still firmly in his hand, blood dripped from it and ran down his arm. He must’ve heard Natasha enter the room, or else the gravity of the situation had just bore down on him, because he dropped the knife and fell to his knees. Tears streamed from his eyes as he held his head in his hands. 

Natasha comprehended his misery as more over what they had done to him, than what he had done to them. Almost 50 years of brainwashing and orders, and now he was free. The people most recently in charge of his wipes were dead, and he had extracted his revenge. Like he said, now his redemption had begun. 

Natasha let James alone for the moment, and made her way more into the room. A chair seated in front of some sort of contraption sat as the center piece. Metal cuffs were wielded to the arms. She deduced that this was the machine used to wipe James’ memory time and time again. 

She looked back to him as he kneeled on the floor. He faced the machine, and she wondered if it was the sight of this that had dropped him to the ground. She wasn’t up to think on it too long, and moved over to the computer and the end of the room. Thankfully, one of the scientists had logged in, and Natasha was able to access anything she wanted. In this case, it was location of other HYDRA bases and the Winter Soldier’s file. Natasha guessed she wouldn’t have enough time to read through the files before more agents were sent to deal with them, and James was in no condition to take on anyone at this point. Natasha pulled a small device from her belt and plugged in into a port, downloading the entire file to review later. 

Once that had transferred, out of curiosity Natasha searched for herself, to see if HYDRA had any information on her. She doubted it, but it was worth a try. Surprisingly, they did. Romanova, Natalia -- KGB Agent. She wondered what kind of answers to her questions the file held and quickly downloaded it to her device before unplugging it and deleting the file off the computer. 

Natasha moved swiftly over to James. He didn’t move as she approached. “Hey, we’ve gotta go. They know something's happening and it’s been too quiet.” 

He said nothing and didn’t move. “Come on.”

Still nothing. Natasha placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and shook him. “Get up. Let’s go.” 

He still held his head in his hands. Natasha squatted down to his level so she could look him in the eyes, which were wild with fear. “Can you hear me? James? James?!”

He looked to her slowly, still holding his head. He blinked away the tears that had welled up. “Natalia?”

Natasha sighed with relief, “Yeah, it’s me. We gotta go.”

James nodded, Natasha helped him to his feet. He looked around the room. She picked up his knife and held it out to him. “You okay to use this? I don’t know who we’ll--”

“Yeah, I’m good.” James forcefully took the knife. “You got the information?” 

Natasha nodded. James bit his lip nervously, then turned to leave the room. Natasha followed directly behind. On the way out, they ran into little trouble, which worried the both of them even more. They had made quite a ruckus coming in, and someone must’ve alerted everyone that the Winter Soldier was here. 

Unobstructed light from the outside could be seen at the end of the corridor and past the grate there was still no sign of trouble. It was way too easy. The two assassins knew better than to test their luck, quickly making their way out of the valley and off the mountains. They arrived in the outskirts of the mountains an hour or so later. The thick evergreens let little light through, making it a perfect place to hide for the moment. They panted and heaved, the air from their lungs burned from overuse. 

Natasha made her way over to a narrow creek that ran through the wood, kneeling beside it, putting her cupped hands in and lifting the water to her mouth. James rested his back against a tree and slid down to the ground. Natasha looked over to him, “You should have a drink.” 

James flicked his eyes to hers then down to his blood-stained hands. Natasha watched as he studied them with more of a fansication than disgust. “I don’t remember it being this messy.” 

Natasha swallowed hard, “You can clean up over here.” 

James slowly moved his head to face her, taking the time to examine every aspect of the surroundings between him and the creek. He put his left hand to the ground and pushed himself up with ease. Whatever HYDRA did to him, it sure made him resilient. 

James dropped to his knees a foot or so away from Natasha. He methodically dipped his arms it the clear stream, using his hands to wash away the blood. The thin layer of water on his metal arm shimmered in the beams of light allowed by the gaps of the tree branches. 

When his hands were clean, he reached his right hand in, cupping it, and took the small bit of water to his mouth. He looked to Natasha, as if he was seeing if he was doing it right. She said nothing, waiting patiently for him to finish. He wiped his wetted hand over his face, then nodded. 

Natasha pulled out the device from her bag. She pressed a few buttons, “Let’s see what HYDRA has to say.” Natasha scrolled through the files. The corners of her mouth drooped, her eyebrows solemnly lowered. James darted his eyes around her face for an explanation, “What is it?” 

Natasha breathed slowly. “The file I got has a log of the personnel transferred in and out of the base.”

“And?” 

“The scientists you killed weren’t in charge of your brain-washing.” 

James stiffened his lips, “But I remember them.” 

“They were probably there after your last… session.” 

James’ eyebrows lowered. His anger simmered. “We both know that was too easy to have really been the final blow. It was still a start.” 

“They’re still out there,” James looked up over the tree branches, grinding his teeth.

“Yeah, but we have all, well a handful, of HYDRA base locations,” Natasha held up her device. “And we’ll get them. You’ll get your redemption, I promise you.” 

James looked to her softly, “And you’ll get yours.”


	5. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The next chapter! Enjoy! :)

And together, they did. The HYDRA base was the first of many they attacked. Each time James took his anger on the unprepared agents as Natasha retrieved all the information she could from the computers. The information on the Winter Soldier wasn’t complete, even after half-dozen bases they’d collected from. After reading through the files, Natasha was wary of letting James even have a peek at them. But he insisted and she figured he should know. No matter how terrible it was.

James fell into a deeper pit of silence after seeing the files. Though, he wasn’t much of a talker before, he skipped the ever so occasional word they would share. Natasha figured it’d be best to leave him be, let him sort it all out for himself. She found that worked for her.

The Winter Soldier’s red covered past wasn’t the only thing she dug up on those bases. The collection of her own files grew and she eventually built up enough guts to flip through. Over the long years of working for the KGB, most memories blurred, or else she buried them deep in the depths of her mind.

And after reading the files, she understood why she buried them in the first place. She had more blood on her hands then the Winter Soldier. So, she understood why he kept to himself. The rage inside her grew, the KGB had manipulated her for so long, with promises of rewards that were never really guaranteed. A life she had lead since she was young, so young she’d forgotten the age. The files answered that question, though she wondered if she’d rather not known that she’d been in this life since before her age was double digits.

 

They alternated HYDRA and KGB bases, making sure both of them got a chance for revenge. After they’d make a few bigger hits, they’d lay low for a while. Natasha would pick the nicest safe house from her collection and they’d rest. Though rest for them was relative. Both of them stayed on their toes, and James often didn’t sleep for days. Natasha always took the opportunity for some shut eye or a decent meal.

In the months that had passed and through everything they’d experienced together, a real trust began to build. Natasha never said anything about it. And neither did James. It was silent but understood. At the safe houses, they had their own space. Natasha would sort through the multitude of files she had stored and James would read a book that he’d picked up.

And the months passed falling in this pattern. Every time their mission risked exposing them, they’d lay low.  A year had passed now, since they met, and Natasha became restless in the silence. And she could tell how it killed James to keep his mouth shut and his nose in a book. And even though James protested, she dragged him to a local drinking establishment.

With their unnatural enhancements, a few shots didn’t bother either of them much. Natasha smirked as she knocked back one after the other, teasing James to do the same. The moment the alcohol began to cloud his mind, James begged her to return to the house. With his hands in his pockets, he explained he didn’t like the feeling of not being in control. That it stirred up the memories that were still so recent.

They didn’t drink again.

 

On the next mission, Natasha handed James a gun, loaded with actual bullets and not blanks. She said nothing as she did, and James understood her meaning. And although he appreciated the trust, he preferred the knives. They provided a more intimate kill.

His precision with the knives was something he’d obviously learned through his training with HYDRA, but Natasha had seen him perfect his skill on the walls of the safe houses. On his sleepless nights he’d stand for hours  throwing his whole collection of knives from different distances and at different points. In the morning, she’d hand him a cup of coffee, nodding in approval of his accuracy. He lightly beamed. And though she figured he didn’t intend for her to pick up on it, she could tell he was honored by her subtle praise.

The next mission was a higher security base, no doubt why James had spent so many restless nights throwing daggers. Getting in was easy, and immediately the worry set in. Did they know they were coming? Natasha had kept a close eye on the intelligence sphere and neither of them had seemed to raise any solid flags. She figured they be fine.

Then the footsteps started, and Natasha quickly pulled James to the opposite direction. Shadows of approaching agents grew and danced on the corridor walls. Before they could find a way to escape, they were surrounded. Natasha quickly counted, 3…, 5… 10… 15? At least.

She flicked her eyes to James, who was darting his eyes around the room, also counting. He turned to her, his eyes full of uncertainty. Natasha gave him a short, quick nod and he turned back to the mob of agents and promptly attacked.

Bullets began to fly, Natasha ducked and dove out of the way. James tossed daggers with rapid flicks of his wrist, sinking them either into their heads or necks each time. Natasha dodged the knives and the gunfire as she returned theirs, making sure James was out of the way.

The last one fell to the ground, a knife in their neck and a bullet in their brain. Natasha and James shared a smirk. From behind, a bullet casing clinged on the ground. Both pivoted on their heels. An agent stood before them, she’d been hit, but not fatally. Most likely by ricochet. She raised her gun, aiming it at James.

Without thinking, Natasha lunged in front of him and fired at the agent’s head. The agent was tossed back and hit the floor with a thud. James, thanks to his quick reflexes, saw Natasha move toward him, and held the knife he had prepared to throw firmly in his hand. Natasha gritted her teeth, exhaling sharply through them. “What the hell was that?” James was furious.

Natasha turned to him, surprised by the fact that he’d just spoke, “What?”

“I could’ve stabbed you! Why the hell did you jump in front of me like that?”

Natasha knew the real reason, but she buried it deep down with the rest of her secrets. She brushed a strand of hair effortlessly out of her face, “This is a KGB base, I get the kills.”

In her training, Natasha had learned how to lie without giving a single hint. But, in his, James had learned how to read professional liars. He saw right through it. He saw the true reason she stepped in front of him, but he denied it on the grounds that it was a ridiculous assumption. Assassins did feel those kinds of emotions, especially not for fellow assassins. He flexed his jaw and nodded, “Fair enough. Just warn me next time. We don’t need any unnecessary deaths.”

He passed her and continued down the hallway without a second glance. She worried that he’d seen her true intentions. But they were on a mission at the moment, and that is was what she needed to focus her mind on.

The layout was similar to a few other bases they’d hit, so they found the central computer with ease and with only a few other agent interruptions. James guarded the door as Natasha made her way to the computer.

She hacked in and searched what they needed. Locations of other bases, major KGB secrets. And as always, as much as she could dig up on her past. No matter how dark or full of red it was.

 

They made their way out of the base and to the cover of the chosen safe house. James and Natasha took of their gear, changing into more comfortable clothes. As he pulled off his dark overcoat, Natasha could see the shoulder of the light shirt underneath was covered with blood. She pursed her lips, “Doesn’t it hurt?”

James spun to her, “What?”

Natasha motioned her head toward his shoulder. He followed her gaze and looked down to it, “Oh.”

Natasha moved over to her bag, pulling out a first aid kit.  James continued to stare at his right shoulder, “I guess I didn’t notice.”

“If you’re injured, you have to tell me.”

“I didn’t notice.”

She motioned for him to sit down on the bed, and she sat beside him, “Take it off.”

He reached his left hand up to his shirt collar and pulled it off over his head. She began to check the wound. It had hit him in the front, but had not gone through the back. “It’s still in there. I’ll have to take it out.”

“Okay.”

“It’ll hurt a bit, so bare with me.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Natasha lead him to the bathroom where she wetted a cloth and cleaned the wound. She took a tool from her first aid kit and looked to James hesitantly, “I don’t have anything to numb you with.”

“I’ll live.” His eyes were cold, she could see him bracing himself.

“Alright. It’s not that deep, but you have to stay still.”

James sat down on the closed toilet seat and look up to Natasha, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Natasha tried to be as careful as possible, but she could see that she was hurting him more than he let on. He grimaced and grunted. She let out short sorrys. She removed the bullet and place it on the sink’s counter. “See, that wasn’t so bad.” She said more to herself than to James.

“You did fine.”

She cleaned out the wound again, stitched it up and wrapped it. “You’re good to go.”

“I’m glad I have you to take care of me.” He said with a smirk in a flirtatious brooklyn drawl. It was the most of James Barnes she’d ever seen, and she couldn’t help but smirk back. She went to turn away, but he grabbed her arm, and she flicked her head back to him. “I never thanked you for saving me.”

Natasha shook her head, “You probably could’ve killed that agent yourself, it was stupid of me to jump in front of you.”

“No, not that.” Natasha lowered her eyebrows. “I mean before, when you spared my life. When you took me to that base to find out who I had been. When you were patient through my episodes. I’m never going to be the Winter Soldier again, and I have you to thank.”

“I bet you could’ve figured it out on your own.”

“Yeah, but then I would’ve never met you.”

Natasha turned back to the sink and the first aid kit. She rinsed the tweezers and rag under the faucet, “You’d be better off then.”

“But would you?”

She didn’t turn to him. She stared at the rising water in the basin. If she hadn’t met him, she’d still be working for the KGB. Who knows how much blood she would have shed in their name. And she knew her intervention had saved James but she never stopped to think how it had saved her. “No, I wouldn’t.”

James nodded, then smirked, “Then, at least I know something good has come out of the things I’ve done.” A bit of pain faded into his expression.

Natasha put a hand on her hip, “This is only the beginning. We’ll wash the red out.”

“All of it?” James said, skeptically.

“No, of course not. That would be unrealistic. But getting enough information to take the KGB and HYDRA down will definitely be a step in the right direction.”

“You think just the two of us can take them down?”

“We can certainly try.”

Natasha went silent as she cleaned up the sink and packed up the first aid kit. James watched her for a moment before walking back into the bedroom, pulling a fresh shirt over his head. She left the bathroom, flick off the lights as she did.

She took the storage device from her bag and went through the most recently retrieved files. Her file began the same as it always did:  Romanova, Natalia KGB Agent. She figured it wasn’t anything knew. KGB. The Black Widow program. A record of her artificial enhancements. The Red Room.

Red Room? This was new. It went on to describe an intense training facility, recruiting only the best. It said she spent 5 years there, but she didn’t remember a second of it.

      _Agent Romanova was one of the best and most promising students training at the Red Room. It was here she began her serum treatments and was discovered by the KGB._

Another thing she didn’t remember.  She remembered the treatments, but it had always been by the KGB.

  _She was trained closely under The Winter Soldier who favored her over his other students._

The Winter Soldier? She thought she’d remember training under the Winter Soldier. But no matter how hard she tried, she had no memory of him beyond the warehouse where they met. She looked up to where James was sitting on the other side of the room.

He had his face in the pages of a book, he looked calm and she didn’t want to bother him. She turned back to the glowing screen and read on.

  _After an incident, Agent Romanova’s memories of the Red Room were removed and were replaced with the memories of training with the KGB. She was promptly moved to a KGB base where_

_they continued to administer the treatments._

  
Brainwashed. She was brainwashed. No wonder she had gaps in her memory, no wonder her admittance into the KGB was vague and blurred. She wondered what else wasn’t real, what else was just the KGB, or the Red Room’s, cover-up. Was her name even Natalia Romanova? Was anything she remembered or knew even truly hers?

Her breathing sped, as did her heart. Her head began to spin, she felt an increasing sense of disconnect. Then there was a hand on her shoulder. She blinked a few times, then looked up. James stood before her, a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. His expression was soft, though he was obviously concerned, “You okay?”

Natasha nodded before she could find words, “Okay? I-I’m great.”

“Is that why you’re on the ground with your head in your hands?”

She looked around. During her episode, she’d slipped out of her chair and onto the ground. Her arms could be seen out of the corners of her eyes. She lowered them to her side. “Oh.”

James slowly lifted his hand, “What were you reading on there?”

Natasha hair fell into her face as she looked to the device that sat on the floor. She tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear and picked up the device. “Ever heard of the Red Room?” She didn’t look to him.

James put his left hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair. “Red Room? Sounds fairly familiar. What is it?”

Natasha flipped through the file. She remembered what she read, but it was more out of nervousness. “Uh, it was or is, I’m not sure, a training facility.”

“A training facility? What did you train there or something?”

“Yeah, that’s what it says in the record.”

“But…,” James could tell she was dancing around the truth.

“I don’t remember it.” She looked up to him, searching for sympathy and empathy. And he was there with it; looking back at her with more understanding than she could find anywhere else.

“They brainwashed you?” He said after brief silence.

“There was an incident, it doesn’t say what it was. It was bad enough to wipe me so, who knows.” Natasha searched James’ eyes for any sign that he remembered, that he could fill in the gaps. The KGB had seemed to do a more thorough brainwash than HYDRA, that or James had a more emotional grasp on his memories.

His eyes puzzled. His eyebrows lowered. “Red Room? Red Room?” Natasha hadn’t seen James process words like this since he learned his name. “W-why does it sound so familiar?” He was more asking himself than Natasha, but she had the answers this time.

“Because you were there. You trained me.”

James turned his puzzled look to Natasha, “I trained you?”

Natasha nodded. “Red Room? Red Room,” his eyebrows raised,  “I-I was assigned there. But that was back in the ‘50s, you couldn’t have possibly been there.”

“I’m older than I look.”

James tilted his head. “What? You think you’re the only person who gets to try out soviet super-serum?”

He shook his head, “No, I just-- you didn’t tell me.”

“So, you remember the Red Room,” Natasha changed the subject, she wanted answers, “Then do you remember an incident like the one this report refers to?”

“Let me see it.” James held out his hand, Natasha placed the device in his hand. His eyes scanned the screen. He shook his head. “No, I-I can’t remember.” He closed his eyes, focusing all his energy on the inkinly of a memory he seemed to have uncovered.

“I can remember arriving, I was briefed. I was recruiting. There were so many potential recruits. They all showed off their most impressive skills as I walked by. But one stood out,” James opened his eyes and looked down to Natasha, “She had fiery red hair that whipped around as showed off her acrobatic skill.”

His eyes crinkled as his lips curved towards his cheekbones. And Natasha couldn’t remember a thing, “You can picture all that.” Her tone was bitter.

James shrugged, like it was no big deal, even though it was, “You stood out,” He turned his head to look out the window,  “I knew there was a reason I hesitated in the warehouse.”

“So did I.”

From the romanticized description he’d just given of her, she could guess the nature of the incident. No wonder she was so hesitant to shoot him between the eyes at the warehouse, to give him to the KGB. No wonder she felt a great desire to help him and to protect him.

No wonder the Red Room wiped her memory. She had learned how to break down the Winter Soldier’s programing, she made him go soft, to an extent. She figured HYDRA hadn’t designed him to fall for anyone. She feared what they’d do to her if they ever found them.

Natasha looked back up to James, he was still staring out the window. And though she feared for her own life, in that moment she realized she feared for his life more. A lot more. She realized she’d do anything to protect him, even though he could easily protect himself. He must’ve felt her gaze because he turned back to her. And it was understood that he felt the same about her.

Then a red dot of light appeared on his chest. 


	6. Chains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics denote dialogue in Russian.

The red dot aimed on his chest was to incapacitate, not to kill. And it worried Natasha more because of that. She pushed herself off the ground and towards James, her reflexes working faster than her mouth to tell him to get down. They were on the floor as the trigger was pulled and the bullet dug itself into the opposing wall. Natasha’s eye met James’. “We have to go.”

James quickly glanced from the wall back to her, “You’re telling me?”

Natasha crawled off, sneaking around the room, staying out of the eyeline of their attacker. James moved beside the window, grabbing the drawstring for the curtain. He pulled it down and the curtains drew closed. They rushed around the room, only grabbing the absolute essentials. “How did they find us?” James gruffed.

“I think the more important question is who ‘they’ are.” Natasha pulled the bag’s strap over her head, securing it on her shoulder. She grabbed the gun from atop the dresser and cocked it. James slung a bag over his shoulder, and readied a gun as well.

Without another word, they headed out. Was is HYDRA? Was is the KGB? Either way, they were screwed. They both knew the sniper wasn’t the only one sent after them. That there’d probably be a greeting party as soon as they hit the front doors of the apartment complex.

Natasha lead James down the fire exit instead, which let out to a back alley instead of the main road. The alley was thin, not even wide enough for a car to fit through. Voices grew in volume, spewing Russian commands. Footsteps echoed off the brick walls and chilled asphalt.

Natasha’s heart raced. By the sound of it, they were surrounded. She scanned the entirety of the alley, looking for a plan B. If it was HYDRA, she knew they’d wipe him. But if it was the KGB, the torture he would suffer in their attempt to get answers out of him, she wondered if it would be a better fate to be wiped.

James grabbed her arm and pulled her close, “Run. I’ll keep them off, it’s probably me they’re here for anyway.”

Her eyes grew in fear, “What? Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you.”

“Just go!”

“No.”

James opened his mouth to tell her again to leave, but he could read her eyes, her expression. Nothing he could say would make her leave his side. She’d promised that they were in this together. And after all they had done, it wasn’t very likely that they were only coming for him. He clicked his teeth together and tightened his jaw. “We can’t get out of this.”

“Then we’ll just have to fight our way out.”

James smirked, cocking his gun. They turned, facing their backs to each other, readying themselves for the approaching onslaught. Shadows from the agents of which ever organization grew on the brick walls. The first agent turned the corner, keeping their gun lowered, “ _We have not come to kill you. We have come to collect you. Either you can surrender, or we can take you by force. If you choose the latter, know we can’t guarantee you’ll survive_.”

Natasha raised her gun and hit them straight between the eyes, forcing them to the ground.

One after another, they poured around the corner. And for a time, Natasha and James felt that they could win this battle, that they’d get out of this fight unscathed. But just as the body count rose, more agents appeared. And they seemed never ending. And eventually, guns run out of bullets.

It was Natasha’s first. That damned clicking sound sent a panic through James’ body before an ounce of worry even touched Natasha. He knew they had to surrender, or she’d die.

Surrender wasn’t even an inkling of a thought in Natasha’s mind. She ducked behind a few trash bins and dug through the bag, looking for bullets or another full gun. And as she did, James’ eyes moved to her and in the reflection of a puddle on the ground, he saw as a few dark figures approached the edge of the rooftop above, snipers in hand.

He had to protect her. Nothing else seemed important. “ _We surrender!_ ” James’ voice echoed through the alley. Natasha shot her eyes up immediately to meet his. She knew he was trying to protect her, but she wanted to yell at him for how stupid he was being. But she kept her mouth shut, quickly formulating a plan.

If both of them are taken in, no one will ever come along to save them. If it was HYDRA, James would be wiped, and Natasha would be interrogated, tortured within an ounce of her life for any information she had from the KGB. And if it was the KGB, there fates would be reversed. Natasha had no doubt after reading her file that if the KGB ever got their hands on her again that they’d wipe her back to a time before she questioned her orders. Back to a time where her world was black and white. Back before that day in the warehouse.

James dropped to his knees, placing his hands on his head. Not an ounce of fear was seen in his eyes. Not until he glanced over to Natasha and saw that she was still there, without a plan. She waited, watching as the agents circled James. How they focused on him, she figured they must be HYDRA. Her eyes ran up the walls to the rooftop. Just as she expected, the snipers briefly held their fingers to their earpieces before retreating.

With the snipers off the board, and most of the agent’s focus on James, her best chance for escape was now. If she did make it out, she could save him. Rescue him. But HYDRA would most likely have him wiped long before she could track them down. As she focused her eyes on the insignia on the agent’s shoulders, a wave of relief washed over her.

It wasn’t HYDRA, it was the KGB. Focusing on James still made sense. To them, he’s the Winter Soldier. Having their hands on HYDRA’s most feared weapon puts them in a desirable position. With him in their hands, they could experiment or wipe him and program him as their own. That’s what they did to Natasha.

But most likely, they’d interrogate and torture him. All that information bouncing around his head, they’d ring him dry. It’d give Natasha time to track and rescue him. But in every scenario Natasha ran through, James would still get the most damage. He didn’t seem to mind. She figured he’d thought through this plan as well.

He barely flinched as the agents continued to surround him. Glancing to Natasha for reassurance as to who he was doing this for. He put his trust in her to save him. But just having the agents surround him wasn’t a big enough distraction. A few still seemed to head in her direction. And though they both knew Natasha could take down a few agents, she needed a clear path to get out of there unharmed enough to get to a safe distance.  

James had to make a scene. Every gun had to be pointed at him. In that moment, capturing the Winter Soldier had to be the highest priority; even above retrieving their rogue agent. He looked over to Natasha one last time, giving a slight nod. He had his plan, and Natasha had to be ready to follow.

She nodded back and James lunged for the closest agent, grabbing their gun and aiming at another agent. Natasha jumped up the second he was off the ground and disappeared around the alley corner. A few agents took notice, but were immediately drawn to the crack of the gunshot.

Just as he’d planned, every gun was aimed at James. “ _Don’t fire! Don’t fire!_ ” A voice frantically commanded. An agent glanced out of the circle to where Natasha was sitting, “ _Who let her go?_ ”

“ _Don’t concern yourself with her_ ,” said another, “ _We have the Winter Soldier, that’s all that matters._ ”

The agents locked heavy duty handcuffs to James’ arms and lead him to an armored truck. They referred to him as an object, a tool. He ignored them, fueled by the knowledge that Natasha was safe.

She heard them from the apartment, having returned to the one place she figured they wouldn’t think to look. It stirred funny in her stomach to hear them call him such things. He was a person, couldn’t they see that? She again found herself as the first (and only) person in 50 some years to treat him like a man and not a machine.

They were all prepared to let his blood run in order to get the information they wanted. And Natasha was prepared to follow them, and slit every one of their throats personally. She knew exactly which KGB base they’d take him to. It was close by, but built after Natasha’s leave. They didn’t know she knew it existed.

The trucks pulled away, carrying the bodies of the fallen as well as their newest punching bag. Natasha packed up the rest of their stuff. Trying to keep her mind of the thoughts of what they were planning on doing to him. She could already hear his screams and feel his pain and she wanted it all to stop.

She had to save him. That was top priority, even above her own well being. She hadn’t even noticed she’d been hit in the crossfire until she bumped her shoulder into the doorframe on the way out of the bathroom. Splitting pain rushed through her entire arm as well as her chest.

Natasha took a few moments to clean and bandage the wound. Luckily, it was only a graze. She geared up and was out the door. She headed for the train station, knowing it would be faster than following them with a hotwired car.

The train would be faster, she could be there before they arrived.They wouldn’t get a chance to lay a finger on James. The train left the station ten minutes or so after she arrived. Natasha was the first to board, taking the seat nearest the front of the train so the second they arrived, she could make her way to the base.

 

After all of the train rides shared with James, this one felt longer than it was. Loneliness wasn’t an emotion Natasha was used to feeling. She had been a solo operator for decades. But with the year or so with James, she learned that she’d much rather have someone to tag along.

The wheels came to a screeching halt, steam rising from under the cars up over the platform. Natasha quickly grabbed her bags and hopped off the train. Though the train was faster, she’d only have an hour or so lead on them. And she still had to make it out of the town limits where the base sat in an abandoned barn. She made her way through the streets, finding a car and hot wiring it. She would never make it to the base in time on foot.

The sun began to fade behind the buildings as Natasha drove out of the town. Not allowing a second to focus on anything but the road in front of her. She had to save James. He was all she had, he was all that mattered.

 

It was night as she abandoned the car in some tall grass. The base was just a bit up the road. She pulled on night vision goggles and began to sneak toward the base, using the long grass as cover.

To an average passerby, the base would look like nothing more than an abandoned barn. Rotting, unpainted wood siding. An unkempt yard full of overgrown trees and ancient cars with a variety of plants growing through the windows. A gravel driveway led from the road to the doors of the barn.

Headlights appeared in Natasha’s peripheral, almost blinding her. She ducked down in the grass as the line of trucks past. They had gotten there faster than she expected. The gravel clicked as it was kicked up between the tires. The barn doors opened and the car drove in, the floor was replaced by a ramp that led to the lower levels where the real base was held.

Natasha circled around and snuck in as the barn doors closed. She stealthily took out the two guards and made her way down the ramp, which led to a large room two stories down. The ceiling reached the full two stories holding cars, trucks and every other kind of vehicle imaginable.

A few agents circled the back of the truck holding James. They opened the doors and two agents from inside led him out, holding onto the chains of his cuffs like a leash. He didn’t struggle, he didn’t even seemed bothered. He knew he’d live longer if he was corporative.

Natasha watched as the agents and a handful of guards led him through a door. The lights in the room faded and Natasha was left in the dark. She made her way to the nearest duct grate and ripped it off. She followed them from above, she could hear their footsteps and their commands.

James was led to a small room, only furnished with a few high-hanging chains to connect his restraints to the wall. They shoved him against the wall and chained him up, his arms stretched above his head. The room emptied except for an agent and a guard. The agent walked to a lever on the wall, pulling it down a notch. A mechanic click echoed through the room, and James was raised an inch or two off the ground, pulling on his arms. “ _If you don’t feel like cooperating_ ,” the agent warned, “ _Your view is going to get very interesting._ ”

The agent grinned maniacally. James didn’t break is empty gaze. The door opened and another agent walked in, rolling a metal cart covered with a sheet. James eyes followed it as it passed him and was placed within a few feet of him. He didn’t seem surprised by it, he knew what they were about to do.

And so did Natasha. She had to act fast, but if she didn’t have the keys to his restraints, then killing all of the agents in the room would only trigger the alarms with no means for escape. She went through her belt, none of her devices could cut through the metal chains that held him to the wall.

The maniacal agent pulled of the cover with air of drama, and went to work choosing her first tool. She picked up a small scalpel and turned to James, “Now, maybe I won’t have to use this. But then I wouldn’t have any fun. However, you may just want to spill now, and avoid any pain. You’ve been out of programming for a year now, HYDRA doesn’t have a hold over you anymore, huh?”

James blinked twice. His expression didn’t change. Natasha had to think fast. She scanned the cart, hoping there would be something to cut the chains with. At least she could get him out of the base, and they would just worry about getting the restraints off later. But nothing on the cart looked strong enough. She scanned the belt of the agent, a set of keys were nowhere to be found.

She had to find the agent that locked him in those in the first place, but this base was fairly large, and a master interrogator was about to start her work on the man that she-- James grunts broke her out of her thoughts. The maniacal agent had started her craft, carving an X through the thick fabric of James’ clothes and into his chest.

The agent that had put the restraint on him and sat in the truck with him had left the room with the group, and that was only a moment ago. Natasha figured they wouldn’t be too far away. She shuffled around in the vent, turning herself around to face the opposite way, ignoring James’ growing cries of pain.

Natasha followed the vent back down the hall to a side room where all of the agents from before sat around a table. Some played cards, while others drank. All of them had their guns in their laps, ready for any trouble. She counted ten of them, and didn’t even put in a second thought. From her belt, she pulled a small device. She pressed a button and threw it down through the cracks of the vent.

The device blinked twice before releasing a thick gas. Natasha wasn’t phased by it, another perk of the serum. The room erupted in coughs and then was suddenly silent. All of the agent’s heads hit the table, spilling their drinks and tossing their cards. She removed the grate and dropped into the room. She quickly went around to every agent, looking for the key on their belt. The third agent she checked had it. She grabbed it, jumped onto the table and pulled herself back into the vent.

James’ grunts of pain turned into screams, and Natasha could hear them for the entirety of her trip through the vent. She made her way back to above James’ room and secured the key in her belt. She lifted up the grate and readied herself. This would have to be quick.

Just as the agent raised her hand to again carve into James, Natasha hit the ground, causing the agent to pivot and for the guard to raise his gun to her. Natasha raised her gun as well and put a bullet through the guard's head. “ _Natalia Romanova,_ ” the agent teased, “ _I figured you’d show up sooner or later to retrieve your dear Winter Soldier. Or do you not call him that?”_

Natasha’s eyebrows lowered in fury. “ _You know he’s a machine. Just a weapon, Natalia._ ”

“ _Stop talking to me like we know each other._ ”

The agent’s eyebrow raised, “ _Oh, you don’t remember me? Not surprised. I would have disappeared along with the Red Room,_ ” The agent looked to James, then back to Natasha, “ _So nice seeing you two together again._ ”

Natasha pounced onto the agent, pinning her down, “ _What do you know about the Red Room?_ ”

The agent laughed cockily, “ _Everything you can’t remember._ ”

“ _Who are you?_ ”

“ _Your replacement._ ”

Natasha raised her eyebrows, “ _My what?_ ”

“ _You think you were the only one to get a taste of that serum? The only one to train under him._ ” She motioned her head to James. “ _He had a real fancy for you. Glad to see that even brainwashing didn’t take that away_.”

Natasha looked up to James. His eyes searched his mind, trying to remember. “ _You know her_?” Natasha tried.

James nodded, “ _And so do you._ ”

“ _But I don’t--_ ”

“ _Yelena._ ” James said, “ _Her name is Yelena_.”

Yelena smiled, “ _But I don’t go by that anymore_.”

“ _What do you mean?_ ” Natasha’s face grew more and more puzzled.

“ _Like I said, I’m your replacement. I’m the new Black Widow._ ”

 

 


	7. Tryst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long, I've been super busy. Enjoy!

“ _The new Black Widow?_ ” Natasha sunk her nails into Yelena’s shoulders.

“ _Yes, your replacement. They wanted to continue the program, continue the missions.  I was the only other Red Room graduate to have positive results with the serum._ ”

This could be exactly what Natasha was looking for; answers. And Yelena sure liked to hear the sound of her voice. “ _We trained together?_ ”

“ _Back in the day. We were both students of The Winter Soldier, though you got a little more one-on-one time than the rest,_ ” Yelena said with a smirk.

Natasha looked up to James, he had a pleasant look on his face. Even in his current situation, the memories they shared in the Red Room had to have been something special, but she already knew this. But the extent their relationship went, maybe no one knew the answer to that anymore.

Natasha looked back down to Yelena and punched that shit-eating grin right off her face. Yelena turned her head back to face Natasha, “ _You don’t remember any of it, do you?_ ”

She grimaced. Telling the truth would put Yelena in the upper hand, and Natasha needed answers quick and easy. James still hung against the wall, and they still needed to make it out of there alive. Natasha looked up to James, “How much do you remember?”

James looked to Yelena the back to Natasha, he could tell what she was doing. She was seeing if she really needed the ‘new black widow’ for intel or if he could just fill in the looming gaps in her memory, “Enough that we don’t need her.”

“Good.” Natasha raised her arm up and brought down another punch, this one knocking Yelena out cold. She stood and James dropped his cool, groaning at the pain of the chains and Yelena’s work. Natasha ran over to him, pulling the device out of her belt.

“Sorry I let you hang there for so long.”

James shook his head, “Don’t be, Natalia. It’s fine, I understand.”

Natasha raised the device over the cuffs, the left, then the right. After the second one, the cuffs released and James fell to his knees with a grunt. She lowered herself to his level, “You okay enough to walk?”

“I’m gonna have to be, ain’t I?”

Natasha held onto his arm as he rose to his feet. The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. James’ eyes snapped to the doors, “Damn it.”

Natasha pushed James toward the grate, “Through the vents it is.”

She dropped her hold of his arm and rolled the cart under the grate, brushing all of the equipment off the top. James put a hand on it. “After you.” Natasha insisted.

James’ eyes trailed to Yelena, “You’re not going to kill her?”

She shook her head, “Better for them to have a replacement then they, hopefully, won’t be as eager to capture me.”

James balled his fists, “If you wanted them off your trail, you shouldn’t have rescued me, they’re just going to be more angry now.”

Natasha clenched her jaw, and moved closer to James, pointing a finger in his face, “What? You would rather have been left to rot here at the hands of Yelena?”

“If it meant you were out of harms way.”

Natasha opened her mouth to tell him how stupid he was, but the approaching agents bursted through the door. “ _Don’t move,_ " they warned.

James grabbed the gun from Natasha’s left holster, as she grabbed the one from her right. In a matter of moments, the agents that had stormed into the room all laid on the floor. They both scanned the room then looked at each other. James raised his eyebrows, “Do we still have to go through the vents?”

“Just to be safe. There'll be more of them.”

“Fine.” James said as he hopped up onto the cart and made his way up through the grate. Natasha took one last look at Yelena. She knew about what Natasha and the Winter Soldier had. Enough to taunt, but not enough to have her memories wiped. Natasha hoped that James actually knew enough of what happened to clear her mind.

She hated not remembering.

“You coming?” James’ voice boomed from above.

Natasha nodded, “Yeah, be right up.”

She moved over to the cart and hopped up then into the vent. James stared at her, “I don’t know the way out.”

“Just start moving, I’ll tell you when to turn.”

Natasha gave him the directions out, and they were to the car in minutes. By the time the rest of the base’s personnel found out what had happened, they were miles down the road. Natasha kept insisting they stop so she could patch up James’ injuries but he kept telling her to shut up, saying he was fine and that it was more important to get out of the area before they could follow him.

She didn’t think much about the events of the Red Room, where they’d go was occupying her mind. After the capture at one of her most secure safe houses, she wondered how many of the safe houses the KGB had tabs on. Most likely, they’d had to go for the much more secure and not as luxurious ones hidden in the slums of cities dotting Europe and the Soviet Union.

When she could, Natasha took her eyes off the road, and watched James. He had fallen asleep about an hour or so into the trip after he had a raging battle with his eyelids to keep them open. His chest softly raised and lowered, his arms crossed in front of it. The light from the moon laid softly on his face. With him, Natasha felt the most contentment she was capable of, and seeing him laying next to her, safe and still James, made the corners of her lips raise into a smile.  

As the sun peaked up over the horizon, they ditched the car and made their way to the nearest train station. “So, where do we go now?” James asked.

“You mean, where do we stay?”

“Yeah, don’t you think they know about all your hide-outs?”

Natasha sighed, “Most, not all.”

James lowered his eyebrows, “And you’re willing to risk that?”

“I am if you are.” she challenged.

James huffed and put his hands on his hips, shaking his head, “I don’t mind, but I think it’s not the safest idea.”

“We’ll be more careful next time. No large windowed apartments. Nothing luxurious. I have a cabin near the alps that’s pretty low key.”

“The alps? I thought you said nothing luxurious.”

“I never said my cabin was nice.”

They hopped on a train and about 10 or so hours later, made their way to the cabin. And Natasha was right. The cabin was small, one room with plumbing that only ran cold water. Cobwebs hung from the roof, the windows were covered in a thick layer of dust. From the outside, it looked as if it had been abandoned decades ago.

“I’ve had worse.” James said.

Natasha snickered, James was obviously not too impressed, but what did he expect?

Inside was a little nicer. A fireplace sat centerpiece to the entire building. The area immediately at the entrance held the living room, next to which was the kitchen that took up the right wall of the cabin and the bedroom sat opposite the living room. They had limited electricity running to the lights. For heat, Natasha got a fire going. James yawned and plopped on the couch, “I guess you shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover.”

Natasha smirked, “What? You like this place now?”

James shook his head, “No. I was talking about you.”

Natasha dropped her smirk and turned away from the fire, “Me?”

“Before I remembered the stuff about the Red Room, I had a completely different opinion of you.”

Natasha was glad he brought up the Red Room instead of her. She wasn’t sure when the appropriate moment would be, but she guessed then was as good as any. “Ah huh? And what was that?”

James scooted up to the edge of his seat, “You know, what you’d expect a spy of your skill to be. Cold, calculated. Focused on the mission and only the mission.”

Natasha stood and walked towards him, crossing her arms, “And it took you until you remembered the Red Room to figure out that I was more than that? What? Me sparing your life back when me met meant nothing to you?”

“If those thugs hadn’t attacked us that morning, would you’ve still spared me?”

She lowered her eyebrows, “Yes, of course. I wasn’t going to hand you over to the KGB. I knew they were going to torture you.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Natasha scoffed, “I don’t know. I guess the same reason I didn’t kill you in that warehouse, that I helped you discover your identity, that I dragged you all over the Soviet Union and Europe, keeping you safe and attacking HYDRA bases out of redemption! The same reason I risked my ass to save yours from the KGB.”

She took a moment to catch her breath. James sighed, he hadn’t meant to make her angry. “I don’t know why I did all those things for you, but you do.”

James looked down and smirked.

“Are you going to share what you remember from the Red Room?” Natasha said; determined.

James nodded slowly, then returned his focus to Natasha, “I can only fill you in on the stuff that happened when I was there, and even that’s still spotty. I know you want to know about everything that happened while you were there, but I can’t help you, though I wish I could.”

Natasha nodded, taking a seat on a chair facing the sofa, “I know, and I understand. Just tell me what you do know.”

He took a deep breath, “It’ll take a while.”

Natasha sat back and crossed her legs, making herself comfortable, “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Okay, I’ll start from the beginning, when I first arrived. I was called to the Red Room to facilitate training, but you already knew that. On the first day, I was instructed just to observe so that I could choose an elite class to train, only teaching the best of the best. I remember arriving and seeing all of the potential recruits. All of them were so deadly, even at their young ages.

“And I remember seeing you for the first time. You were training with two other recruits, one of them was Yelena. You jumped into the air, feet first towards one of them, then pushed off that one and back-flipped a kick to Yelena’s face. It was quite a site, and that was the moment I knew I had to work with you. At the end of that first day, I had my list of recruits, you were listed first and the next day, we started training. Though, you didn’t need training as much as just practice. You had all of the skills you just had to perfect them more.

“Weeks past working with the group, and the more and more I worked with all of the recruits, the more and more I wanted to focus working with just you. And I was given clearance to. They told me you were special. That you’d been prepped for the Black Widow program and that you were the most promising candidate. They didn’t go into detail about what that exactly meant, but I didn’t really care.”

James rubbed the back of his neck, “And that’s where it gets a bit spotty, the next thing I remember was, it had to be months later, because we were… uh, much closer. We had crossed the line of teacher/student. You had managed dig beneath my programming, which was just to train Red Room recruits for a reason I was either never told or I don’t remember, both are equally likely.”

“What do you mean, closer?” Natasha now sat on the edge of her seat, her hands folded in her lap.

James swallowed, “We were… together. As in that one-on-one time Yelena was teasing you about wasn’t athletic in the training sense. Our relationship went on for a while, I think. I remember it feeling forever and as fast as a blink of an eye at the same time. But, after a while, the Red Room directors caught on and called my superiors. I had broke programming.

“The night before they separated us we spent together. I had been given a room at the academy and we were staying there. I remember the weight of your head on my chest, the warmth of your breath against my skin, the smell of your hair. I remember every detail of that night. That night was the first time we told each other ‘I love you’. I said it first in a whisper, I actually didn’t even think you were still awake. But you were and you told me you loved me back.

“The next morning, they stormed my room. They grabbed me and shot you with a tranquilizer dart. I got rowdy, throwing punches at anyone who stepped near you. After a while, they tranq’ed me as well. When I woke up I was at a HYDRA facility, miles away from the Red Room. They asked me a few questions about us, then wiped me I guess, because I don’t remember anything after that.

“Before I met you, I don’t remember anyone else ever breaking my programming enough to allow me to love. But that day in the training room, when I saw you for the first time, something changed and I’m not even sure why. I remember most of everything that’s happened in the past 50 years, and you were the one good thing out of all of it.” James broke his eye contact with Natasha, looking at the floor.

Natasha blinked a few times and nodded her head. She stared at James with a blank look for a moment until he looked back up at her, “You don’t remember any of it, do you?”

“No, what? Of course I do.” Natasha covered.

“I know when you’re lying.”

Natasha shifted in her seat, “Fine, I don’t remember any of it.”

James lowered his eyebrows, “Nothing triggered a memory or anything?”

Natasha could see how desperate he was for her to remember what they shared, but no matter how hard she tried, there was nothing. She shook her head. James nodded. Natasha looked down then her eyes lit up, she flicked her eyes to James, “You said that the last night was the most memorable to you.”

James nodded his head again, “Yeah? Why?”

“Well, if you said something to me that we talked about that night, maybe that would help?”

“Like what?”

Natasha took a deep breath, “What exactly did you say when you told me you loved me?”  

James swallowed, his eyelashes fluttered, “I said:  _I love you, Natalia Romanova._ ”

Natasha’s heart sank and her world began to spin.


	8. Outlaws

"Natalia. Natalia." James' smooth voice cooed. And though she felt his hands on her shoulders, he sounded miles away. 'I love you Natalia Romanova' was the key that unlocked everything from the Red Room, even the events that occurred before James was there.

Decades of memories flew through her mind, blurring her eyes. James continued to say her name, his grip not letting up a bit.

And then everything stopped and she was back on the floor of the cabin, James' blue eyes inches away from her face and full of panic, "Natalia?" he said again, desperately.

Natasha nodded, "I'm here. I'm fine."

James sighed with relief, "You had me worried there for a while."

"How long was I...?"

"Maybe a half hour or so."

"What happened?"

James shrugged, "I dunno. You fell of the couch and grabbed your head and you just sat there for a while."

Natasha moved her hands to the side of her head and rubbed her temples, "Well, whatever happened, I have a major headache now."

"What happened on your end? Do you remember the Red Room?"

Natasha nodded, "Yeah, I remember now."

Natasha looked into James' eyes. His expression softened, she could tell he was relieved that she remembered.

What they had shared in the Red Room was more than just physical. It was the intertwining of souls. Two people who had similar experiences and skill. Had a similar drive and code of morals. Who only had a faint recollection of childhood memories but a strong line of orders.

Natasha didn't break down James' programming because he found her attractive or because he was impressed by her skill but because they had such a deep personal understanding of each other's situations, even if they weren't consciously aware of it.

At the time, neither Natasha nor James knew they had been brainwashed. That who they truly were was kept a secret so they'd do the dirty work of criminal masterminds; organizations that underhandedly ran the world.

Natasha and James were two of the most effective of the organizations' weapons, and both shaped the world more than the world knew and more than they would ever know.

Natasha brought a hand from her head and rested it on James' cheek, caressing it gently. He leaned into it, not taking his eyes off of her. She tilted her head slightly to her right, darting her focus between his eyes and his lips. She leaned in, and he followed. Their lips touched gently.

All of the memories, the moments shared, flooded through their brains. Every touch, every kiss, every sensation danced on their lips. And when it became too much, they pulled away. Both surprised by their actions, but pleasured by the experience. “Sorry.” James apologized.

Natasha shook her head, “No, don’t be. I leaned in first, I should’ve stopped myself.”

James rocked back on his heels, setting his rear on the floor, “That’s not why I’m sorry.”

“Then why?”

“For all of this,” James motioned his hand toward the walls of the cabin. Natasha knew he wasn’t talking about the cabin itself, but the lifestyle that forced them to hide there. Secluded in the depths of the alps in the middle of winter, with the snowfall heavy enough to cover their tracks in an hour. She exhaled slowly.

She would’ve asked what all of that had to do with a kiss, but she knew the answer. Anything she and James were, and anything they ever wished they could be, would never work. One day they’d slip, get captured, sent to a base and wiped. Anything they built together would be gone in the blink of an eye, and this time, no one would know their story.

This time, the students of the Red Room weren’t there to observe and gossip and Yelena wouldn’t be there to remind them. Their hidden life was just that, hidden. And though it kept them alive they would never be able to fully live, not without the deafening fear that they could wake up one morning and not remember a second together.

Every inch of Natasha wanted to lean in for another kiss. But her mind pulled her back, drowning out the wants of her heart with reason. She just stared blankly at James, not responding to his apology. After a while, he stood and retreated to the restroom, which offered the only closed off room in the cabin. He closed the door and the lock clicked.

Natasha didn’t bother him unless to force him to eat. He had to eat something eventually. She waited at the table for hours with a plates set for two. It was the next morning before he showed. The sun began to glisten through the windows, the layer of dust creating designs on the floors and walls.

Natasha perked up the second the floor creaked, she reached across the table and pushed the plate of food in his direction, inviting him to join her. He hesitantly crossed the room, pulled out the chair and sat down. The entire time only keeping his eye on the plate.

James picked up the fork and scooped a bite of food into his mouth. Natasha sighed. The days he ate purely by choice were rare. He scraped the remaining bites of food a put them his mouth, chewing slowly, stalling. It was clear he didn’t want to have this conversation, but he knew it needed to happen, “We can talk about this,” James said.

Natasha stayed silent.

“That wasn’t a suggestion. We are talking about this.”

“What do you want me to say, James?”

"It doesn’t matter, we just have to talk.”

Natasha huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, “It’s pointless.”

“Talking?”

She rolled her eyes and put her elbows on the table, “Us. With the KGB and HYDRA on our tails like this, we’ll only be safe for another month at most. Then we’ll be captured and wiped before one of us can even attempt a suicidal rescue mission.”

James lowered her eyebrows, “You think I don’t know that? You think that I haven’t thought about that? I am wanting to discuss us despite that. Despite the risks.”

She stared at him for a moment, then stood, leaving the table, “What’s the point?” she mumbled.

But Natasha was wrong. They were careful and months passed and it turned into a year, then two, then three. The KGB and HYDRA were still always on their trail, but they were safe and still themselves. They still took down bases when they could, when they were positive it wasn’t too much of a risk.

At the end of every month, James approached Natasha with the topic again, and every time she shut it down. She told him again and again that the limited time they could have wasn’t worth the risks. He always argued that their time would be limited even if they weren’t caught up in all of this, that everyone dies at some point.

And that’s when Natasha would tune him out. The mere thought of losing James was unbearable. Four years had passed since they were reunited, and though Natasha wanted them to keep their distance, her love for him grew each day.

It was in the little things. The way his mouth curved when his cockiness forced it into a smirk. His dry humor that rolled off his tongue effortlessly. His not-so-subtle flirts. His graceful motions in a fight she found so beautiful, she almost forgot he was an assassin.

She buried these emotions, deep under the layers and layers of herself that she had grown over the years. She buried them along with the other emotions that she had forgotten she had. Where what made her human went to die, leaving behind only what made her an effective assassin.

Then came a mission. It seemed easy enough, it was nothing more than they were equipped to handle. It wasn’t a major base either, they’d given those up years ago. And it was their cockiness, their seemingly utter control of the situation that almost got James captured.

It was a HYDRA base. And though it was small, it was still as gruesome as the rest. With all the toys and gadgets, they could make James’ life a living hell while they waited for higher-ups to come and collect him.

In and out was the basic plan. They needed to update their information and that was all. Nothing more, nothing less. All was well until on their way out. Someone had pulled the alarm and waiting for them was not only all of the personnel from that base, but also a base that was a few miles north. Apparently, Natasha and James had been in their long enough for all of this to conspire.

And though the odds were against them, as they always seemed to be, they pulled through, somehow, and retreated into the nearby mountain range. The air was crisp and the cold nipped at their faces. They hadn’t exactly planned for these temperatures, but it was their only option.

The wind swept around the mountain, wiping gusts of snow against them. At least they were safe. Natasha looked to James in awe. He was fine, wasn’t captured. She didn’t lose him. All the the fears running through her head the entire fight, all of the pain she worked past for him, to protect him. And there he was, still James. No brainwashing, no injuries. Just James. The James that had been by her side for the past 4 years. And for the first time in those 4 years, she finally accepted what he meant to her.

He looked down at her in complete and unconditional adoration, and she couldn’t help but reach up and touch his face to comfort him, caressing him gently. She tilted her head, and brought up her lips to forcefully touch his. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She pulled away slightly, “I think I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” she said in a breathy whisper.

He sighed into a smile. She finally said the words he’d been longing to hear ever since that kiss in the cabin. Ever since she remembered the Red Room. Natasha realised life was too short to worry about HYDRA and the KGB so much that she couldn’t accept the reality that was right in front of her. That here and now, she and James could be together. Even if it was for a year or a month or a week. She felt unstoppable now.

They put the rest of their confessions on hold until they got to a safe distance and into a safe house. Natasha picked out one of the nicer super-secluded houses. It was still small. Much smaller than the cabin in the alps. But it was newer, cleaner and had hot running water, which Natasha quickly put to use.

As Natasha strolled out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her hair, James caught her eye. He sat pensively scribbling in a leather-bound journal. "Since when do you keep a diary?" Natasha teased.

James let out a short laugh, "It isn't a diary. It's a journal. I write down what I want to remember, it's a failsafe, just incase I ever get wiped."

Natasha lowered her eyebrows, "You're not going to get wiped again, I'm not going to let that happen to you."

She walked over and rested herself on James' lap, her arms wrapped around the back of his neck. He smiled, "I know, just in case, I want to have all the important stuff written down."

Natasha smirked, "And what counts as important?"

"If you have to know, a lot of it is about you. About the Red Room. I felt that was important."

Natasha leaned closer and placed a kiss on James' cheek, "It is. I just hope I never have to use it."

James shrugged, "You probably won't. You don't have to worry about it, Talia."

Natasha glanced down at the journal then back to him, “Well, this book is making me worry a little.”

James rolled his eyes, “I’m not trying to make you worry. It’s for an ‘if’ not a ‘when’. Besides, look at us, 4 years and we’re still fine.”

“We’ve been lucky. But we can’t run forever.”

James sighed, “Maybe this is what we have to deal with, but so what. We have each other and that’s what really matters, right? Or does that sound too cheesy for your taste?”

Natasha smirked, “I don’t mind cheesy when it’s coming from you.”

James let out a short laugh before pressing a kiss against Natasha’s lips. He held her cheek gently in his right hand. She wrapped her arms tighter around the back of his neck, pulling herself closer to him.

His lips ran down her neck, brushing light kisses along the way. He stood, lifting her with him, and placing her feet back on the floor. She gripped her hands on his shoulders and forced him against the wall. James brought his lips away from her neck, breathing heavily and stared deeply into her eyes.

Natasha pressed her lips against his, using one hand to hold him against the wall and the other to undo his coat zipper. James moved his hands up her back, pulling her closer. She took a step back, ripping his unzipped jacket off his shoulders and arms.

James grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted it over his head. Natasha’s eyes darted directly to where the metal of his arm met the flesh of his chest. He followed her eyes and sighed. She brought her fingers up and lightly traced the edge of his metal prosthetic.  He shook his head slowly. Natasha understood that he didn’t want to think about that right now. “Natalia.”

“Sorry.” She immediately dropped her hand.

James rested his fingers under her chin, bringing her face up so their eyes could meet. He leaned in his lips to touch hers then pulled away slightly, “We don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”

Natasha answered with another kiss, deep and passionate. This time, instead of pushing him against the wall, she pulled him to the bed. What followed was just like their nights in the Red Room. And after all the time they shared, it was almost like muscle memory. Both knew the other so well that everything fell into place perfectly. James knew just where to kiss Natasha’s neck to make her moan ever so slightly.

Afterwards, they laid in each other’s arms without a word. But nothing really need to be said between them. Each could feel the contentment of the other. When James pressed a soft kiss in Natasha’s hair, he didn’t need to see her face to know she had smiled. She always smiled when he kissed her like that.

That day inspired a new routine. They’d destroy a base, shower, maybe eat and spend the rest of the day in bed. And though they were still on the run, they couldn’t be happier. It was Natalia and James against the rest of the world, and neither of them would have it any other way.

Another year passed, then another, then another, then another, then another…

After all the years, they felt unstoppable, invincible. And could you blame them? They always focused on the limited amount of time together and now 9 years had passed without major incident. For a moment they believed they could go on like this forever.

Then the winter of 1999 came upon them.

 

 


	9. Atonement

It was in the little things. How James already had a cup of coffee poured and sweetened before Natasha even woke up. How they had made a language in facial expressions, entire conversations without a word. How they fell so naturally in line with each other in a fight, back to back; no enemy could sneak up on them. It was in the little things where Natasha found worry instead of joy. When something that should have made her smile, caused her to be consumed in fear.

Seven years was a long time for people like Natasha and James to be together. And in that seventh year, Natasha could feel the inevitable end creep toward them with every passing day. If James shared that worry, he didn’t show it. He just kept on smiling, kept on cracking the smirks and the cheesy jokes. Maybe it was for Natasha’s sake, or his own.

Either way, Natasha was grateful. Grateful for their synchronicity during a mission as much as for their moments of domesticity. Where if Natasha closed her eyes while she was wrapped in James’ arms, it was almost if there was no worry, that there was no one searching for them, that they were truly safe.

But all good things come to an end, and great things end with a tragedy.

 

It was nearing midnight on that cold December night. Natasha had, again, dragged James to a bar, and though he was still uneasy about the risk of getting drunk, he was still willing to tag along. It was Natasha, and what made her happy made him happy.

The bar was in a small town on the outskirts of nowhere which sat in the shadow of mountains. It was the dead of winter, and even the air inside threatened frost bite. But Natasha wanted a drink, and James wasn’t about to argue.

“You sure it’s a good idea to be out drinking with everyone on our tails?” James questioned as they trudged through the constant snowfall.

Natasha shook her head, “I thought I was the one that was supposed to worry.”

James narrowed his eyes. Natasha shrugged, “You can stay at the safe house if that’ll make you feel better.”

“No. If they attack, it’d be better if we’re together.”

Natasha figured out that he was just humoring her. She smiled to herself, “Are you trying to make me worry?”

“I’m not trying to make you anything.”

Describing the bar as worn down would be an understatement. The walls were made of rotting wood, the roof looked as if it had been patched up a minimum of 1,000 times, and whoever attempted to fix it did a piss poor job each time. The same wood stretched the counters and a few scattered tables.

The bar was mostly empty, except for the bartender and a couple of regulars at counter. Natasha and James took the table in the furthest corner. She headed up to the bar, and James took out his journal, continuing his entry.

Natasha held up two fingers, “ _Vodkas._ ”

When Natasha returned to the table, she set one down in front of her, and the other in front of James, who rolled his eyes, “Natalia, I told you--”

“We’re celebrating,” she explained as she sat down.

James set the journal down on the table, “Celebrating what?”

“Come on,” Natasha picked her glass, raising it in James’ direction. He followed. She lifted an eyebrow, “A toast.”

"To?”

“Us. It’s a few days away from New Years -- I think -- and that’ll make it 1999. A whole seven years since we met. And a lot of things have happened since then. The fall of the Soviet Union, internet, and I fell in love with you. Even if it wasn’t the best idea, I’ll never regret it.”

“Cheers to that.” James said smoothly as he brought his glass to clink with Natasha’s.

Both took a sip. Natasha knocked back a gulp, while James was a bit more timid. But he wanted Natasha to be happy. He stared at his glass. Natasha could tell something was wrong, but James spoke up first, “Why are we celebrating?”

“I already told you--”

“No. Why now? Why have this big celebration for seven years? Why not eight or nine or in three years, ten? that would be a decade, that makes more sense to celebrate.”

Natasha lowered her glass slowly, placing it on the table, her fingers still wrapped around it. James raised his eyebrows, “You think something’s gonna happen?”

“I don’t know. We can never know. Better to celebrate now, after we’ve gotten this far… just in case.”

“In case I get captured--”

“Which won’t happen. I promise you, you’ll never see HYDRA again if I can help it.”

Natasha downed the rest of her drink and James’, then they left. The night was still relatively young. They headed back to the safe house, James’ arm wrapped around Natasha’s waist. He held her close, and he never wanted to let go.

 

The next morning, James woke up before Natasha, which wasn’t unusual. He was careful about getting out of bed, as to not disturb her. He envied her ability to get a good night sleep. But he figured it was just another way the universe punished him for his immoral deeds.

He started a pot of coffee and it simmered softly as he sat down to write. He tried to add bits and pieces everyday. Big things like the Red Room, and some of his more high profile missions. But also little ones. He described the way the sunlight hit Natasha’s face as it poured through the window.

James tried to stay a objective as possible, allowing who ever he’d become if he were wiped again to make his own decisions, just as he had been allowed to, but his thoughts rambled.

And even though Steve was not as clearly remembered in his mind and he hoped for, he still wrote down everything he could remember. Steve had been important to Bucky, and even though James knew he would never meet him again, it was still important that he wasn’t forgotten.

 

When the coffee finished, James brought it into the bedroom where Natasha still slept. Either the sound of his footsteps or the smell of the coffee made Natasha stir, eventually bringing her eyes to meet with James. “Coffee in bed?” Natasha said sleepily, rubbing her eyes and yawning slightly.

James grinned, “Though I’d do sometime special.” He handed over the mug to Natasha, who cupped in gently in her hands.

Natasha blew gently on the steamy coffee, “Are you worried, too?”

James looked down, “I guess. It’s just been quiet lately, you know? No one’s trailled us after a mission for a few months now, and I just…”

“Hey,” Natasha cooed. She set the mug of coffee down on the nightstand and rested a hand on James’ shoulder. “I do enough worrying for the both of us.”

“Don’t you think it’s odd, though?”

Natasha lowered her eyebrows and dropped her hand off of James, “What? You think they're planning something?”

"I don’t think it would be crazy to assume--”

“No, your not crazy for worrying about that.”

“Is that why you took us celebrating last night?” James asked, his voice breaking a bit at the mere thought of Natasha being in the hands of the KGB or HYDRA.

Natasha pursed her lips and blinked slowly, “Just in case, James. Just in case. We do a lot of things just in case. You with your journal, and me with taking us out to celebrate making it to seven years.”

“We haven’t gotten there yet.”

Natasha crossed her arms, “I thought you were supposed to be the positive one. You were the one that said we shouldn’t worry and that we should just enjoy each other while we can.”

“Well that was then,” James said, moving himself off the bed, “And now, I don’t know, I just have this bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that I can’t shake. I have the feeling that what they’re planning for us is something we won’t just be able to fight our way out of.”

“We’re faced it all before, and here we are, still together.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s gonna be different. I mean, I don’t know, it’s just a feeling. Who knows? Maybe in a year we’ll look back at how paranoid we’re being right now and laugh, but maybe we won’t be together long enough to see another year.” James huffed, “I just-- I just don’t know. So, I made you coffee in bed because, well, you know, Talia, I love you and I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

Natasha sighed, “James, I…” she turned to the coffee, picking it up, then turned back to James, “Thank you. Thank you for the coffee. And I love you, too.”

James’ grimace faded into a smile and he sat back down on the bed, this time closer to Natasha, “I guess I worry too much without letting it out, it just builds up too much. Sorry for snapping.”

“Don’t be.” Natasha pecked a kiss on James cheek.

“What’d you say,” James suggested with a smirk, “This becomes annual thing. I wake you up with coffee in bed and then we spend the rest of the day here.”

Natasha’s smile lit up her face, “I would--”

Something caught Natasha’s attention, a faint noise from the next room. Something metallic sounding as if it were rolling. And it did, right into the doorway of their bedroom.

James must’ve not heard it, caught up in the moment, and looked at Natasha with a puzzled gaze, “Natalia, you okay?”

“James, we gotta--”

The object’s top popped, and Natasha pulled James with her as she leaped to the other side of the bed. Out of the object came a thick gas that filled up the room faster than Natasha could get to her gas masks, or to a door. This type of gas was not one Natasha, or James, had learned to tolerate, as it burned her lungs immediately.

Everything started to go fuzzy, all she could make out was James’ shape a few feet in front of her, hunched over and hacking. She tried to speak, but it was no use. She felt herself fading slowly, and tried reaching out for James, just in case it was her last chance.

But she didn’t reach him in time, passing out, and falling face first to the floor.

 

The cement floor was frigid against her cheek. Musty air filled every breath. Natasha's head rang from what they used to bring her down, every footstep, every short comment echoed a thousand times through her head. She struggled to keep her or find her voice, only able to mumble and grunt. Her throat was dry, but she manager to swallow enough spit to croak out the one thing on her mind, "James?"

Luckily, the agents within earshot were too engulfed in their own business to her that she had woken up. Natasha tried to catch her breath, coughing violently, the hacks ringing in her ears. She craned her neck, trying to get a good look of the room, "James?" she called again.

This time, she was loud enough to hear and the closest agent whipped their head to her, "She's awake," they called to the others.

"Get her ready," another replied.

Ready? Ready for what? Natasha feared the worst, but whatever she was about to endure she knew was going to be better than what they had planned for James. Whether is was HYDRA or the KGB that had captured them, both were equally terrifying. And there was nothing Natasha could do about it. And she knew she would never forgive herself. "James?" she tried desperately.

She needed if there was still even the smallest chance of saving him. Two agents wrapped their arms around Natasha's upper arm, hoisting her up onto a chair. Her vision was still blurry and she still couldn't get a reading of her surroundings, "James?" she said, without an inkling of a plan.

"Oh, don't worry," an agent comforted sadistically, "You'll see _James_ very soon."

And though the thought of seeing James brought some hope, it was unclear in what visage he would appear. She was tied to a chair, after all. Natasha thought of the worst. That it was HYDRA, that he was already wiped and would be forced to administer her rounds of torture.

But what they actually had planned was worst they she could have possibly imagined. She didn't realize why she had been tied to the chair until she heard James' grunts of struggle from down the hall approaching reluctantly. She could hear his own set of chains as they chimed together. "James?!"

"Natalia!" His voice was hoarse.

He was still James, for the moment. An a moment seemed about right as Natasha's vision began to return. In front of her was a contraption like she'd seen before multiple times, but most memorably in the Sayans at the first HYDRA base they hacked. The image of James kneeling, covered in blood, surrounded by the mutilated bodies of those that had helped to hurt him was still fresh in Natasha's mind.

She knew then what they planned to do. Not to far off from her original theory. She was chained to a chair, facing the contraption so she could watch as the man she had grown to know, and love, as James was washed away. Leaving behind only the shell of James Buchanan Barnes to be reprogrammed as their personal killing machine.

The agent holding onto James led him to the contraption. Natasha pulled against the chains, but they only dug deeper into her wrists. "Natalia," James' voice was soft but carried through the room, "I'm sorry."

Natasha shook her head, she felt the tears as they began to run down her cheeks, "No, James, you have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry."

James bit his lip. With Natasha's clearing vision, she could tell his eyes were welling with tears. The agent forced him down into the chair, unlocking the chains as three other agents rushed over, strapping down his limbs to the chair. James' eyes followed their every move. His chest rose and fell quickly in an increasing panic. He turned back to Natasha, "I don't want to forget everything. I don't want to forget you."

Natasha's heart sank. She felt like she was going to be sick. 50 plus years of training and nothing prepared her for this moment. For the first time, the stakes were higher than her life, and for the first time she had no way out. They were going to wipe James. He was going to forget everything they built together. Every smirk, every touch, every laugh, every wound, every kiss, every breath, every late night, every lazy morning, every I love you; gone in a moment. And all Natasha could do was watch.

The chains tied her to the chair around her shoulders, her arms and her legs. Even if she could get out of them, the tranquilizer was still strong enough in her system to slow her down. The eight or nine agents and scientists wouldn't be even the slightest challenge to take down of she were up to full speed. By now, she would have been unstrapping James from his chair, caressing him and promising him they'll get out alive.

Instead, James looked at her with panic, as a few scientists clicked buttons on a nearby computer. Natasha figured they'd only have a few minutes of time left before... and there were still so many unsaid things, even in all the nighttime whispers. "James." she cooed.

"Talia, I-- I guess this is it."

"Don't say that." she scolded, "I'm gonna get you out of this," she lied through her teeth, the tears streamed down her face.

"I'm trained to detect a lie, you know." he joked with a pain-filled chuckle.

Natasha smirked, "I know. You taught me everything you know."

The scientist at the computer swiveled in their chair, facing an agent, "We're ready to start the procedure."

Natasha and James' expressions dropped in a flash. James swallowed hard. They were both at a loss for what to say. An agent forced a mouth guard to James' face. He ducked around it, trying to keep his eyes on Natasha. "I love you, Natalia Romanova."

Another agent came from the other side, holding James' head down and his mouth open so they could force the mouthguard in. Natasha heaved, "And I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. Don't you forget that girl from the Red Room with the red hair you fancied."

"Never." he said, impeded by the mouth guard.

But the sentiment was there, and it was gone the second the screaming started. Natasha looked away. No matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, the image of him still danced in her brain. His screams echoed through her head.

It was all over in a few minutes, and what was left of James was unknown as the pain from the procedure left him passed out in the chair, “James!” Natasha’s voice was so weak with sorrow that it barely traveled; the agents did not hear her.

She shruggled against the chains, trying desperately to get out of them, but still to no prevail. They lifted James out of the chair, and two of them carried him off the way he came. Natasha watched him as he left, not by his own will. Even if he wasn’t really James anymore, she had to try to break him out. She couldn’t leave him here, knowing what they’ll do to him.

The chains around her arms and legs seemed impossible to break out of, but the chair she sat on wobbled as she shifted. She could easily break it. But the agents still in the room posed a larger threat. Two had left with James, but six of them still stood watch, keeping a careful eye on Natasha. She would have to make a scene, get there attention. She figured they weren’t attempt to kill her, that she was probably left alive for testing or torture or both.

Natasha cleared her voice again, “Hey! Hey you!”

The agents turned to her. “Yeah, you! Come over here, there’s something I need to tell you.”

The agents shared quick looks, “We can hear you fine from here.”

“I don’t feel like yelling. Plus, it’s information I’m sure your superiors would be pleased with. I bet they’d reward you for getting it.”

Three of the six agents walked over, to about a foot or two away. Natasha motioned for them to come closer, and just as they got within range, she rocked forward in her chair, getting to her feet. She spun to her side, hitting two agents with the chair and breaking it in the process. Only one agent was sent to the ground.

The three that still stood by the scientist, turned to each other, “Go get back up, and hurry!” commanded one, and two ran off down the corridor. The two that still stood in front of Natasha, charged toward her. She shuffled out of the way for one, and butted the other in the head. As he fell backwards, Natasha grabbed his gun, pointing it at the other and shooting her in the foot.

The agent still standing by the scientist held his gun in his hand, but must’ve been given an order not to fire no matter what. Natasha dropped down and grabbed the keys to the chains held on the butted guy’s belt. She quickly unlocked herself and pointed the gun at the last remaining agent, “You going to tell me where they took him?”

The agent shook his head, “I--I don’t know, I don’t have a high enough clearance for that. I’m just here to guard.”

Natasha looked around, “Well, you did a pretty piss poor job of that. At least tell me where you’re keeping my gear, and all the other stuff that you collected from my safe house.”

“No way, I’ll get--.” Natasha fired a shot near his head. The agent ducked, “Wait! Okay, okay, it’s in a room down the hall.”

“Down the hallway your reinforcements are coming from?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Natasha turned to leave. “Don’t I get a thank you?” The agent called at her.

She raised her gun long enough to send a bullet through his brain, “Is that thanks enough?”

 

The room was only guarded by two guards, and thankfully the reinforcements were taking their swell time getting down there. Natasha was in and out, with all of her stuff slung over her shoulder, including James’ journal, which she wasn’t about to leave behind.

She took the air ducts towards the corridor they had led James down earlier, but every room she crawled over was empty. At the end of the corridor, there was one last door, guarded by two guards and didn’t have vent access. Natasha shot the guards from the vent and dropped down, opening the door with an electronic key from one of the guards’ belt.

Behind the door held a flight of stairs, plunging down to a dimly lit room. Natasha took the stairs and the room stretched out to a large space, filled with boxes and storage. She wondered if he had been taken somewhere else. But why would they put guards in front of this door? There had to be something important.

She followed the rows of crates until her eyes landed on a large glass case, with metal parts on the top and bottom. Tubes led from it to a machine on the side. Behind the glass stood a familiar face, frozen with a mortified look in his eyes. Natasha dropped to her knees at the sight of him.

James was frozen in time, his eyes and mouth still open in a state of shock. His right arm reached out towards the glass, but he’d been frozen before he got a chance to touch it.

And there was nothing she could do really, there wasn’t enough time. She didn’t want to press the wrong buttons and risk killing him, and maybe, maybe, she could figure out how to work the machine to unfreeze him and release the glass, but she knew those reinforcements had to be close now. She was faced with a decision, that she wasn’t even close to being in the right mind to deal with.

Attempt to rescue him and risk killing him, or leave him with HYDRA so they can control him.

But the footsteps sounding from the distance decided for her, and she was on her feet again in a second. She took one last look at James before she left, touching her hand against the glass where James was reaching out, “I’m so sorry.”

 

She was back up the stairs and into the ducts again before the reinforcements reached the room she had been held in. The agents she’d knocked out regained consciousness, and the scientists pointed the reinforcements in Natasha’s direction, telling them where she had planned to go.

They searched the room that held her belongings to find it empty. Natasha had put the vent grate back in place before leaving, so no trace of her using the ducts could be found. The agents toured the hallways, but by the time they found the the two dead guards laying in front of the basement door, Natasha was out of the base, and out of harms way.

 

In the cold and alone, the image of James in that glass case danced in her mind. But she couldn’t think about all they had planned to do with him. Right now, survival was priority. If Natasha were to freeze to death out here, no one would ever save James.

Through the snow, Natasha managed to find a road. The road took her to a small town where the people were friendly enough. They spoke a language in a dialect that Natasha couldn’t put her finger on, but she tried her best to ask for a place to stay and some food.

Thankfully, they understood and put her up in an empty house on the outskirts of the town. They gave her some bread and warm clothes and left her alone. Natasha tried to work out where she was with what she had. She knew they had been staying at a safe house in Ukraine near the border of Moldova. The base they had been taken to couldn’t have been too far from there, moving them too far would raise a risk of them escaping.

Natasha went through all of the files on HYDRA bases or anything remotely related, but found nothing. According the the records, HYDRA didn’t have a base in Ukraine or Moldova. Either she’d been transported farther than she thought, or the base they were taken to wasn’t put in HYDRA’s records.

She filled her time trying to figure out where she was and what language the locals spoke to her with. Anything to kept her mind of off him, because even thinking about him for a second broke her heart into an unmanageable amount of tiny pieces she could never begin to collect.

After an indiscernible amount of time, Natasha figured out that the locals were speaking Romanian, and though she knew how to speak the language, their dialect was near impossible to understand, no doubt from the rural nature of their town.

She had to be close to the border of Moldova at least, she couldn’t imagine HYDRA would risk taking them that far. Natasha made a note of it in the files, that there was a base in where-ever-she-was Romania.

It all seemed pointless, and that was new for Natasha. In all of her life she never let the bad things that happened to her drag her down. She didn’t have the luxury of curling in ball and allowing time to grieve. But now, that’s all she wanted to do. Without James by her side, she no longer had a purpose. There had always been orders to follow, then there bases to destroy and now there was nothing. Just Natasha, an old beat-up shack and her thoughts. And her thoughts contained nothing pleasant.

But James was still out there, and Natasha convinced herself that her new purpose was to survive long enough to save him, no matter how long she had to wait. The sun crept into her window as she laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. She knew she had to leave, that she had to get out of that small town and back in the game, not caring in what capacity.

Natasha packed her stuff, planning to ask the locals, to the best of her ability, where the nearest train station was. Natasha organized her bags, the lighter the better, especially now it was just her carrying them around. Reaching into one of James' bags, her fingers touched a leather book. Immediately, she knew what it was. James' Journal.

And even though then it seemed she'd never have a use for it, she couldn't bare to toss it. She opened book slowly, caressing the words on the page. James began with what he titled as a foreword:

      _Dear James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes,_

_If you're reading this, then that's your name. I know it might not look familiar or sound_

_familiar, but that's you. I know it's been tough for you in the days/weeks/months since_

_you've been out of HYDRA's control, but trust me, it gets better._

_I'm writing this for you so that you have an easier time remembering things. I was in your_

_position not too long ago, and though it's hard, this book will make it easier._

_Okay, so let's cover the important people first. You already know your name, either people_

_will call you James or Bucky. You can choose which one you like more._

 

_The first important person (in no particular order) is Natalia Romanova (hint: she was the_

_one who handed you this book). Be nice to her, she is the only reason I lived long enough_

_to write this all down. She has a very similar past and can help you with the confusion of_

_not remembering things and brainwashing in general.  
_

 

_Second is Steve Rogers. This name probably sounds very familiar to you. You and Steve_

_were childhood friends. You grew up together and fought in WWII side by side. Sadly, Steve_

_died soon after you were originally captured by HYDRA. Still, Steve was your best friend, and_

_you'll remember him, even if it's just bits and pieces. And not being able to see him will hurt_

_but he's worth remembering. He was one hell of a guy._

 

_Now come to think of it, that's really all the important people you'll probably remember. Just_

_know that anyone Natalia introduces to you should be trusted. If she can trust them, there is a_

_very good reason for that._

 

Natasha flipped through a few more pages, reading bits here and there. James documented their time in the Red Room:

 

        _You and Natalia were close. Very close. You trained her in a facility known as the Red Room. You_

_chose to train her because she amazed you. She was (and still is) incredibly talented. You two were_

_intimate for a while, but HYDRA didn't like that fact she broke your programming and wiped you._

 

Their mission of redemption:

 

          _You and Natalia traveled across Europe and Russia in the early to mid '90s destroying HYDRA_

_and KGB bases because they both suck._

 

And an uncountable number of observations of Natasha:

 

          _Her smile is rare but is the most beautiful thing in the world. Make her smile, she'll pretty much_

_smile anytime you say anything remotely flirty (she cares about you a lot)._

 

_The way the moon catches her eyes is very pretty. (Okay, that wasn't the most picturesque_

_description, but I'm an assassin, not a writer. The Red Room didn't have any classes on creative_

_writing.)_

 

For the first time since he was taken, she smiled. She missed James' sense of humor and longed for the day she could actually hand this book to him. She wanted to feel his arms wrapped around her waist and his soft kisses down her neck. But she feared that day would never come.

Just as she was about to close the journal, a folded piece of paper fell from between some of the pages. Natasha unfolded it carefully, and read:

 

    _Natalia,_

_If you’re reading this, that means I have been captured, and for that alone, I am_

_sorry. But also if you’re reading this, that means you managed to escape and_

_that you are alive and well, and for that I am grateful._

_Back to the sorry part. The time we spent together was wonderful, and I’m sorry_

_that I can’t promise you that i’ll remember it forever, because we both know that’s_

_impossible. But you’ll remember. And i’m half sorry for that. I’m sorry that you’ll_

_remember the man that you helped me to become and the man you’ll now never_

_see again. I’m sorry that no matter how hard you try, i’ll never be him again._

_We probably didn’t have that much time before they took you from me, so i’ll_

_say the last words I would have said, or that I will say…_

_Natalia, I have a dark past. You, more than anyone else, can understand that and_

_can sympathize with that. But I don’t regret it entirely. Thankfully, you came along_

_and gave me something I could be happy about. That I did something right out of_

_all the wrongs, (and there were a lot)._

_I love you, Natalia Romanova. I though I’ll forget that, you won’t. And maybe, one_

_day you’ll find me again and help me remember. I really wish there was a way I_

_could just remember you._

_Remember what we were for the both of us. And don’t worry (cause I know you’re_

_always doing that), I’ll find my way back to you one day._

_James Buchanan Barnes_

  
A tear dropped onto the page, and Natasha hadn’t even realized she was crying. She wiped them away, and refolded the letter, tucking it into an inner jacket pocket.

She packed the rest of the stuff, deciding not to part with any of it, no matter how over-packed it made her. She just wasn’t ready to get rid of James’ things.

Natasha headed into the town with a new sense of purpose. She had to be strong, had to continue for James. She wasn’t quite sure what her next major move would be, but she knew she had to get out of the town, at least.

The locals pointed her in the direction of the nearest train station, and Natasha left with a few thank yous to the townspeople. The hike to Iași would take her a little over 4 hours, and from there she could take a train to Bucharest, which would connect her to the rest of Europe, most importantly, her next destination, where the last tickets she had would take her. To her safe house in Budapest.

 

 


	10. Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 is finally here! I hope it was worth the wait! Enjoy!
> 
> [Note: Italics indicate characters speaking Hungarian]

The snow fell across the window, some stuck and quickly melted on the glass. The train swiftly moved through the European countryside heading for Hungary. She lost track of time that had past while in that small town, but she could tell it was still winter. Her fellow train riders were bundled from head-to-toe, hats pulled down to their eyebrows, and scarves curled tightly around their necks.

Natasha no longer liked trains. Without James, the ride felt long and empty. She held his journal firmly in her hand, and every once in a while, she read another page. She didn’t want to get through the entire book too quickly, wanting there to still be new musings of James’ mind to read. And as she read more, Steve came up more and more often. Either James had started to remember more about him, or he began to feel more comfortable with his absence.

The more she read about Steve the more she was grateful that he wasn’t around to see what HYDRA had twisted James into. Though, maybe with him around, she wouldn’t have lost him. But she’d never know. She’d never know how Steve could’ve possibly helped James, and she  never would. And she just had to accept that.

She thought about the Red Room, and about her past. Before meeting James, she had never questioned the legitimacy of her memories. But there was a whole world that she belonged to and never could remember. A secret school of young girls trained to fight, trained to kill in the name of the Soviet Union, who rose in the shadows of war.

And Natasha was  one of them, young and bright eyed, how she got there, she would never know. Records were probably destroyed and the only person she could trust to tell her anything of her past was James and he didn’t know. She remembered fragments from her youth. The crunch of the snow under her feet, the crackle of gunfire, and screams. There always seemed to be screaming. Snippets of images would come and go but nothing solid, nothing tangible.

Natasha hoped that one day, somehow, she’d find who she was, or at least understand who she’d become. She still struggled to understand who Natalia Romanova was beyond on the disguises. In the silence of her solitary she searched for answers to questions she figured most people were aware of: What did she believe in? What did she want in life beyond revenge? What made her happy?  

 

As the train approached Budapest, the snow began to subside. Stepping out onto the platform of the station, the temperature was warmer than it had been in Romania. Not by a lot, but to Natasha, who had been accustomed to Soviet winters, the city felt warm.

Her safe house wasn’t too far of a walk, only a few blocks away from the station. She walked briskly through the streets, feeling as if she was being followed. Snow crunched under someone’s weight a few paces behind her, their shadow crawled across the ground. They had a large build, and what looked liked a quiver strapped to their back. But when she turned, there was no one there. Natasha blamed her paranoia, but still kept her guard up and a hand on her gun.

When she arrived, the place smelled of must. It had been a few years since she called this her temporary home. A layer of dust rested on every piece of furniture. Natasha grabbed some sheets and a blanket from the cupboard and laid them on the bed.

It was quiet, and though there was a time where she would relish in it, now it was deafening. There was only so much time she could bear to soul-search. A loud beep from her bag broke the silence. She unzipped it and checked her devices. She had programmed one of them to intercept HYDRA communiques. Apparently, a high-up of HYDRA was coming to Budapest to do business with a wealthy sponsor who had offered to fund their new project.  There was to be a gala held by the wealthy sponsor where the two would meet.

Natasha wondered if they knew where she was and created a trap, since it was a huge coincidence that a high ranking member of HYDRA would be in Budapest at the same time she was. But, she searched into it further and the ball had been planned for months. Way before she was captured.

 

She used what money she had left to buy a dress. Her priority was to extract information. And her charms never failed on an impressionable man, especially when she dressed up for the occasion.

The silver dress haltered around her neck and draped at her feet. It shimmered in the light. She wouldn’t stick out, but she’d be memorable. She figured her signature red hair would be too much of a defining feature, and dyed it ash blonde.

 

The night of the gala, Natasha had to get her hands on an invitation. Unfortunately, two guests named Dr. and Mr. Barany had an “accident” on the way to the ball, and the crystal studded clutch Dr. Barany had so firmly grasped in her hands carried Natasha’s ticket.

The gala held the richest of the rich. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and guests sipped over-priced champagne. Forced laughter could be heard across the room, as people tried to out-impress each other.

Natasha glided across the room, casually lifting a glass of champagne from a tray as a waiter passed by. A grand staircase wrapped up to a second level, providing an overlooking balcony. From there, Natasha could see everyone on the dance floor, she could spot the HYDRA agent.

As she made her way over, the music swelled from a lively conversational piece, to more of a dance. Around her, men offered their hands to the ladies they accompanied. Before Natasha could escape to the balcony, a hand was offered in front of her. She looked to the man, he had a bend in his nose, and scars on his knuckles that obviously showed that he’d seen his fair share of fights. Most of the other men here only ever got their hand dirty metaphorically.

Not wanting to stick out like a sore thumb, Natasha took his hand and accepted his offer. The dance would only last a few minutes at most, and the night was still young, the HYDRA agent wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. She still kept her eye on the room, in case he decided to make an earlier appearance than planned. “Are you here with anyone?” the man questioned, in English, and his accent was certainly not Hungarian.

“No, just me tonight.”

The man’s eyes crawled down to her purse, the corner of the invitation poking out, he took his hand off Natasha’s waist and grabbed the invitation. “Dr. Balany? Says this is for you and your husband. Where’s Mr. Balany, couldn’t make it?”

She could tell by the look in his eye that this guy wanted something from her, and she was afraid to ponder as to what that could be, “What do you want?”

“Where is he?”

“Who? My husband? At home, he’s been sick with--”

He shook his head, “No, I know you're not Dr. Balany.”

Natasha exhaled sharply. The man leaned closer to her, so that his mouth was right against her ear. He spoke softly, so only she could hear, “Do you even know Hungarian, Natalia?”

Natalia. Somehow, someone had found her. Maybe this was all a trap and Natasha was so desperate for revenge, for what they did to James, that all that mattered was destroying HYDRA from the inside out. And now, Natasha figured that the “he” the agent had asked about before was James, that this guy’s mission is to collect, or kill, Black Widow and the Winter Soldier. Every agencies’ most wanted, “ _I do, but I know you don't and you're not getting any information from me._ ”

“So, you do.”

“Who are you?”

The agent snorted, and brushed his tux jacket away from his belt, revealing a gun, “Let’s just say it’s my job to take care of threats.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, “The bow and quiver to conspicuous?”

The agent’s eyes widened, more impressed than shocked. “What? You thought you were being sneaky enough for me not to notice you? If you know who I am, then you know I don’t play games. You’re pretty young, my guess is that this is your first mission of this caliber. You want to impress your boss, you want to impress yourself. Prove that you're good enough to take me down. But it’s going to take a bit more than a little pistol and cleverly dropped information.”

“Where is he?”

“My husband, I already answered that.”

“No, him. The Winter Soldier. Where is he?”

Natasha shrugged just as the music ended. The coupled dancers across the ballroom split, getting hors d' oeuvres from circling waiters. Natasha back away from the agent, knowing there was nothing he could do at this point without creating a scene, "See you around." Natasha gloated.

She started making her way toward the balcony and noticed out of the corner of her eye, her newest shadow snaking his way through the crowd. An open bar sat next to the balcony stairs, wrapping around a out-jutting part of the wall, so that the bar had 3 sides. A bartender stood cleaning out glasses with a white cloth. Natasha changed her course and sat on a stool on the right side. The agent took a seat on the left, facing Natasha directly.

Natasha waved her hand at the bartender and he walked over, _“What can I get you?_ ”

She motioned towards the man, “ _I saw that man sneaking in earlier and he's been bothering me. You might want to check his invitation._ ”

Natasha knew the agent didn’t know Hungarian, and that even if he could understand what the bartender was about to ask, she knew he wouldn’t have an invitation to show, all she had to do now was sit back and enjoy the show.

The agent watched as the bartender approached him, “ _Can I see your invitation?_ ” He held out his hand towards him.

“Hmm?” The agent pretended not to hear him.

“ _Your invitation, sir._ ”

“Uh, Ne vem?”

The bartender didn’t seem impressed by the agent’s knowledge of Slovenian instead of Hungarian, motioning over a guard. The guard hauled the agent off his barstool and out the door into the light layer of snow that had fallen, and still continued to fall. The agent sighed, his breath catching the light of headlights as a car passed on the street behind him. The agent turned away from the building and headed off into the night.

Natasha figured he knew where her safe house was, and that he’d been waiting for when she returned. But right now, there were more important things on her mind. The HYDRA agent would be here any second to watch the wealthy host of this party’s address to the guests. She checked her watch impatiently, then motioned for the bartender again, “ _When is the host going to address the guests?_ ”

The bartender shook his head, “ _He isn't. He's out of the country because of an emergency._ ”

Natasha should have know this was all too good to be true. She slipped off her barstool and made her way back through the crowd and their falsely-whitened smiles. At the door she checked out her coat and made her way into the snow.

 

Her safe house sat barely a few blocks away, but even for Natasha, trugging the 3-inch deep snow in stilettos wasn’t easy. She rounded the corner then another, and took the entrance from the back of her building located in the dark alleyway. She took the elevator up to her floor and stepped out cautiously, walking lightly on the balls of her feet as to not make a sound. As she walked up to the door, she could see it had already been opened. She removed the small gun from her clutch and walked in.

The apartment remained dark, but the silhouette of the agent sat in the chair by the window, the lights from the street backlighting him. He didn’t budge as Natasha walked closer. “I’m going to ask you one more time; where is he?” His inflection was flat.

“I don’t know. And if I did, do you think I would be stupid enough to tell you?”

The agent huffed, “I have my orders--”

“From who?”

“That’s not important.”

Natasha gritted her teeth and walked closer, she leaned over on the chair, placing her hands on the armrests and her face in his, “It’s insulting that you think it will be this easy to get answers out of me. All you need to know, and all I am going to tell you is; I have no idea where he is.”

“And it would be stupid of me to assume that the infamous Black Widow would lose track of her most valuable and only ally.”

Natasha knew he was right. Had she been realistic about their situation, she wouldn't have lost him. Her emotions held her back and prevented her from saving him. If she had never allowed herself to fall in love with James, she wouldn’t have been so paralyzed with fear that day, they’d still be together, “But I did lose him. And if you can’t see that I’m telling the truth, then your agency failed in your training.”

The agent said nothing, but sat in silence and looked to the floor. “Now, if you came to collect me as well, I’ll let you know that I won’t be brought in without a fight. I’m not afraid to kill you.”

“My orders weren’t to collect you. They were to kill you.”

“Why collect him and kill me?”

“That’s classified.”

Natasha cocked her gun and pressed it to his head before he could blink, “You want to try that again?”

“The serum that was used to create him. They wanna run tests on him.”

Natasha nodded her head bitterly, “Figured. That’s what everyone wants him for. The KGB, HYDRA, you’re all the same.”

The agent’s face turned perplexed, “The KGB fell when the Soviet Union did and HYDRA was destroyed back in the forties when Captain America gave his life to bring it down.”

“That’s what they want you to think.” Natasha raised an eyebrow at the mention of Captain America. She had no idea Steve had anything to do with the destruction of HYDRA. He’d never know his sacrifice was for nothing. Or that the very organization he’d given his life to disband was the organization ruining the life of his best friend.

“So, you’re telling me that the KGB and HYDRA have just been running under every other intelligence organization in the world but somehow you know about them. I mean, I understand the KGB, you’re working for them--”

“Was working.”

“What?”

“Did I mumble? I’m not working for the KGB anymore. I’m more of a freelancer now.”

“So, the lives you’ve taken that have made you so infamous have been just because you wanted to.”

Natasha struck the agent with her gun, “Every life I’ve taken in the last seven years has either been KGB or HYDRA! The Winter Soldier’s mission and my mission is to take them both down. We hate them just us much as the rest of the world because they took everything from us.”

The agent’s mouth dropped open. It was obvious that all he’d known about the dynamic duo was that they were assassins, but he was never told who their targets were. The agent found himself in a hard place. His mission was no longer valid. His targets were only guilty in the assassination of lives that should have been taken, and would have been taken by other organizations had they known of their existence. Now, the most feared assassin in the world was begging quietly for his mercy and what could he do? Letting her live would be going against orders. But killing her would be against everything he believed in, “How can I believe you? Prove everything to me and maybe, maybe I’ll have something to justify disobeying orders.”

Natasha walked away from him and over to her bed. She pulled out her small device and tossed it on his lap. If it meant that she lived, so that she could one day save James, then she’d give her soul. “Everything’s on there. If you have any questions, keep them to yourself.”

The agent rotated the device a few times, trying to figure out which part was the top and which was the bottom. He fumbled for a bit, before Natasha intervened with a sigh, “It’s locked. If you answer a question of mine, I’ll unlock it for you.”

“Sure, why not. Throwing my career away anyway, so shoot--- not literally, though.”

“What’s your name, and who do you work for?”

“Barton, uh, Clint Barton and I, uh, I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and that was two questions.”  

Natasha raised an eyebrow, “S.H.I.E.L.D.? Are you making this up?”

“No, I swear,  it’s a real thing.” Clint held up his hands in defense.

“Why does S.H.I.E.L.D. want to study The Winter Soldier's serum?”

Clint shrugged, “I honestly don’t know. I guess they figured that it wasn’t important to tell me.”

Natasha walked over to Clint, ripping the device from his hand. She pressed a few buttons, the screen lit up her face with an orange-tinted glow. Her eyebrows furrowed as she sorted through the information, “Will a list of HYDRA and KGB base location be enough for your boss to call off the dogs?”

She tossed the device on Clint’s lap. It landed face up, so the light underlit his face, “Hopefully. I doubt they’ll believe I’m telling the truth. Your file says your manipulative, they’ll probably just say that I was--”

“What? Seduced?” Natasha slipped off her jacket slowly brushing it down her arms, then tossing it on the bed, “Would it be easier for you to let me go if you could tell them my charms bested you?”

Clint said nothing, his mouth hung slightly open. Natasha turned and walked back over to her bag, taking out a small box and setting it on the bed. She unhooked her necklace, and gently coiled it down into the box. She rolled her bracelets off her wrists and slid the rings down her fingers. “No, I was trained not to fall into your trap.”

“My trap? What trap?” Natasha said smoothly. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

Clint cleared his throat, “Uh, in your file it says that you use, certain… methods of persuasion.” He tried his best to sound professional.

“Is that so?” Natasha lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed. Clint took his eyes to the device. She bent down, unhooking her shoe straps and tossing the shoes to the side. Natasha hated turning on the seduction. Before James, it was easy, even fun at times, but now it just felt wrong. She knew what it was like to actually feel this way towards someone, faking it felt empty. Natasha felt empty.

“You don’t need to do this.” Clint said without looking up.

“Do what?”

“I’m not going to kill you, okay? This is more than enough evidence.”

Natasha exhaled, relieved, “What are you going to do?”

“Could you take me to some of these bases? I could help you take them down, that way, S.H.I.E.L.D. will have an easier time believing me. I could collect evidence while we’re there. Records and stuff.”

“Records? I have records, it’s all on the device in your hand.”

Clint held up the device, “But this isn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. How can I prove you didn’t forge it?”

“You can’t.”

“Then you understand why I have to do this?”

“I understand, but I’m not happy about it.” Natasha stood pacing a few steps, “Couldn’t I just transfer some of my info to your S.H.I.E.L.D. device and call it a day?”

“You really don’t want to work with me?”

“I’d rather work alone.” That was a lie.

“So would I,” that was also a lie, “But this is the only way I can get you off the hook.”

Natasha stopped pacing and turned to Clint, her arms crossed, “I guess we don’t have a choice, then.”

“I guess not.”

 

 


	11. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. I've been caught up with college work for the past few months, and this is the first time over the holidays I got enough time to sit down and write this thing. I promise the wait for the next chapter will not be as long. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> [Note: Italicized dialogue denotes characters speaking in Russian]

Natasha slipped into the bathroom and changed from her silver dress to her stealth uniform. She left the door open just a crack so she could watch Clint in the mirror, to make sure this wasn’t a ruse. She wasn’t about to be played by an assassin whose weapon of choice was a bow and arrows.

She quickly changed and walked back into the bedroom, tying her hair back into a ponytail. Clint scrolled through the files on the device with a puzzled look on his face. Natasha walked over to her bags, taking out her larger caliber pistols and loading in the magazines. She snapped them in the holster and turned to him, “We can head out whenever you’re ready.”

“Huh,” Clint snapped his head up, “You mean now?”

“If you’re ready.”

“I have to get an okay from S.H.I.E--”

“You think S.H.I.E.L.D. is going to be okay with one of their assassins running off with their target?” Natasha said, trying to get this moving and over with. The sooner she got him off her back the sooner she could get back to her own mission.

“Probably not.” Clint looked back to the device,  “I guess it’ll sound less crazy that I let you off the hook if I have evidence to show.”

Natasha gave him a sharp nod, and slung her bag over her shoulder, “Ready?”

Clint looked up from the device, “Hmm?”

“It’s now or never, Agent Barton.”

 

The moon  glowed brightly overhead, the sound of cars waned as the hours grew late. On the side of the road, a parked car became theirs. Natasha hotwired it in a short enough time to get an audible response from Clint. She sat in the drivers seat, and he glared at her. She could feel his eyes on her, “What is it now?”

“How do I know you’ll take me to where we need to go, and not a trap?”

Natasha looked to him, “Who’s trap? What kind of trap could I create if I was alone, like your agency tells you I am?”

Clint said nothing.

Natasha rolled her eyes and let out a short, annoyed groan. “If it makes you feel better, you can point a gun at me the entire time,” she offered, half joking.“You can follow our route on the device, you’ll know if and when I make a wrong turn.”

“Fine. Just know that the first sign I get that you’re lying, I won’t hesitate to complete my mission.”

“Agent Barton, I’m not above killing you either. First sign you’re turning on me, I’ll make sure your death is as slow as this trip is going.”

Clint tightened his jaw and sat back in the seat.

 

The drive was short. Natasha took the proper precautionary measures to make sure they weren’t followed. When they were about a mile away, they ditched the car on the side of the road and went the rest by foot. The walk was quiet. Only the scuff of their shoes on the dirt road. Looking straight ahead, Natasha could almost pretend it was James who was walking beside her. But, that just made the situation hurt more.

This base, like many of the rest, sat in the shell of an abandoned building. Natasha knew they were successful in their deceit when she took a quick look over to Clint. His eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement, his eyes darting from the building to the device back to the house again. “I promise this is the place,” Natasha assured.

“I wanna believe you, but--”

“Don’t let the look of the outside sway what you know is actually there.”

Clint raised an eyebrow, “So, basically, don’t judge a book by it’s cover?”

“What?”

“Don’t judge a book--, it’s a saying.”

“Oh, okay,” Natasha shrugged, “The point is, this is a HYDRA base, or it was.”

“Was?”

Natasha nodded, “The, uh, Winter Soldier and I took out this base a year or so ago. Took out everyone inside. They won’t be using it again, since HYDRA knows we know about it. But, everything should be right where we left it.”

“Should?”

Natasha pursed her lips, “I’m starting to think you have more trust issues than I do.”

Clint folded his arms, “I’m just making sure you aren’t forcing me to jump through hoops for nothing. Either this is solid, credible evidence that every detail of what you’ve told me is true, or I have to complete my mission. There isn’t any gray area in this.”

“Just follow me.”

 

They made their way into the building, still keeping an eye out for any traps HYDRA may have left for scavengers. Getting in the front doors without seeing any surveillance worried Natasha. If HYDRA still had valuable information in here, they wouldn’t keep it unprotected. Maybe in the years between her last visit and now, HYDRA came back around and cleared it out. Natasha readied herself to take down the bright-eyed agent if it came to that, which she really hoped it didn’t.

She didn’t need another organization on her tail, HYDRA and the KGB were already way more than enough to handle. Killing Agent Barton would definitely mark her as more of a threat than she already was. Up until now, she had never interacted with S.H.I.E.L.D., she could still prove herself as good to them, or as good as she could possibly be considered.

The computer sat cold in the dark room, illuminated only by the assassins’ flashlights. “You do know how to power it up, right?”

Natasha flashed Clint a quick glare. He scoffed at his own comment, “Obviously.”

She followed a chord from the back of the computer to the wall, where the plug sat slightly out of the socket. Natasha pushed it in the rest of the way and a large humming noise crescendo-ed into the room. She moved over to the keyboard and watched as it booted up. “Does every HYDRA base have these?” Clint asked.

Natasha nodded, “Most of them have their records on some sort of digital files.

Natasha heard the tug of a bow string and turned around. Clint's arrow aimed directly between her eyes. She thought she had Clint read like an open book, but it seemed he was full of surprises, "You were never going to let me go."

Clint didn't say a word.

"You were always going to carry out your mission, no matter what I showed you."

"I have my orders."

"But do you think it's right? You said it yourself, Agent Barton, this goes against everything you stand for."

"Are you begging?"

"I'm negotiating."

"You are Black Widow, and I don't have the authority to make a different call," Clint's tone was overtly professional.

Natasha turned back to the computer. She had to think of something. Clint's loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. was stronger than she thought. But he was young, his loyalty was still blind. "You'd kill me?"

"I have to."

"Knowing that I'm only guilty of taking out people your organisation would've if they knew."

Clint shook his head, "If I let you go--"

Natasha turned swiftly to him, "This is you're big break, isn't it?"

Clint lowered his bow. "You're trying to prove yourself to your superiors that you're ready for the important stuff."

He tightened his grip. "You know, I got into this situation trying to prove myself to my superiors. It's why I got as far in with the KGB as I did, it's why I got tangled in with the Winter Solider in the first place."

Natasha unplugged Clint's data drive from the computer and walked away from it toward the door, circling him along the way, "And how do you know it's not a test? Maybe they sent you on a mission to kill me seeing if you had the character to spare me," Natasha taunted.

Clint brought his bow up again, "That isn't how S.H.I.E.L.D. rolls."

 "Then it seems S.H.I.E.L.D. is no better than the KGB or HYDRA. At least when I got wrapped in with the KGB, I knew I wasn't playing for the good side."

 Clint released his fingers and an arrow headed straight for Natasha'a head. She quickly leaned to the side and caught the arrow effortlessly with her hand, "You're lucky I have good reflexes." She drew her guns and matched his aim.

 Clint moved his eyes to the data drive, he would be commended by the Director himself if he brought back information that proved HYDRA was still active. That plus taking down Black Widow, he'd be a hero. But for some reason, he couldn't get himself to reload his bow. He couldn't watch all of her talents and all she had worked for go to waste. She'd be an unmatchable ally. "I can offer you a deal."

Natasha's ears perked up, "I'm listening."

"You give me the data drive and I spare your life."

She knew that was too easy, "But?"

"But, you come back with me, to S.H.I.E.L.D.."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "As a prisoner?"

"As an agent... hopefully."

An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Natasha knew nothing about this organization, except the fact that they allow their agents to arm themselves with nothing more than a bow and a few arrows. Still, it could be a chance, to move her life into a new, and better direction. Plus the resources she'd hopefully be granted to would no doubt aid in her search for James.

But, there was a risk. Even if Clint's intentions were good, S.H.I.E.L.D. might not share his openness, she could be thrown in a S.H.I.E.L.D. prison, with no hope of ever seeing the light of day or finding James. And if she said no to his offer, then she would have the option of either killing or being killed by the young agent. Natasha looked to Clint and lowered her guns, "Is there anyway you can promise me S.H.I.E.L.D. will not take me prisoner?"

Clint shook his head, "I have no idea how they'll react to an assassination target posed as a new recruit. But, I can promise you I'll do everything I can to convince them that you should be taken in as an agent."

"I accept."

Clint's jaw dropped slightly, he wasn't expecting her to agree, "Uh, okay, we just have to stop back in Budapest for a minute to--"

Natasha held up a hand for Clint to stop talking, "We can't go back."

Clint rolled his eyes, "We have to, I have to report from where I was stationed. They might not even listen to me if I report from all the way out here."

"Fine, but it better be quick. With the KGB and HYDRA on my tail, I'm not sure how long we'll get."

 

Back in Budapest, the sun just began creeping over the horizon, lighting up the sky like fire. The snow that covered the ground shimmered in the sun. Natasha and Clint made their way into the outskirts of the city in shadows, the snow crunched under their feet with each step. Natasha closely observed every passerby for any sign of the KGB or HYDRA, "How far into the city do you need to be?"  
  
"We have to get somewhere secure."   
  
Natasha sighed, blowing a piece of hair off her face, "What do you have in mind? My safe house is most likely compromised by now, especially if you were able to find it."   
  
Clint turned to her, "Just inside somewhere. I need just a few minutes in cover."   
  
Natasha quickly glanced around, "I think I know a place."   
  
She lead him to a street full of abandoned apartment buildings, decaying from age with every window and door covered by graffitied boards. Natasha walked up the stairs of one, and pulled back a piece of ply wood from the window, motioning for him to go first. Clint stepped through the window frame and she followed.     
  
Clint looked around, on the floor laid a blanket, some old lanterns and a few empty cans, "You've been here before?"   
  
Natasha looked at all the things she'd left the other times she had to flee her. That had all happened long ago, when she still worked for the KGB, when she was still under their control. At least this confirmed that her memories of her missions in Budapest weren't fabricated. "This isn't the first time I've run into some trouble in Budapest, and probably won't be the last."   
  
She turned around, expecting a witty response, but Clint had out his communication device, pressing a few buttons. The screen changed brightness and he held it up to his mouth, "This is Agent Barton reporting, over."   
  
Clint looked up to Natasha with slight impatience in his eyes. He tapped his left fingers rhythmically on the side or the device. "Yes, Agent Barton? Over," the voice on the line said.   
  
"I'm reporting in on Operation: Rain, over."   
  
Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. Clint opened his mouth to explain, but changed his mind and just shook his head. "You have not been reporting daily, which is in direct violation of protocol, over."   
  
"I ran into some trouble and couldn't report in, over."   
  
There was a brief silence, "Is the target terminated? Over."   
  
Clint glanced at Natasha then back to the device, "I need to speak with the Director. Over."   
  
"For what purpose? Over."   
  
"A possible new recruit, over."   
  
There was another pause. "Has the target been eliminated? Over."   
  
"Can I speak with the director--"   
  
"Has the target been--"   
  
"I need to speak with--"   
  
"Agent Barton, yes or no? Has the target been eliminated? Over."   
  
Clint looked up from the device to Natasha, "No, over. But, I can expla--"   
  
"Then you have failed your mission,--"   
  
"Let me please explain--"   
  
"And in ordnance with protocol,--"   
  
"I have--"   
  
"On missions with this caliber,--"   
  
"I have evidence of HY--"   
  
Natasha's eyes widened. If on the off chance HYDRA was listening in on this, they did not need to know that another organization knew of their continued existence. "Agent Barton," she interrupted.   
  
Clint flicked his eyes to Natasha and glared. The agent on the line stopped mid sentence, "Who is with you, Agent? Over."   
  
Clint’s tone became panicked, "I need to speak with Director Fury. I have information, valuable information, game-changing information. The person with me is the reason I have the information, over."   
  
"Who? Over."   
  
Clint said nothing, still thinking of a response that wouldn't get him a bullet in the head for treason. He looked to Natasha for guidance, but she only glared at him. "Are you with the target? Over."   
  
Clint stared at the device. "Agent Barton? Over."   
  
"Barton? Do you copy? Ov--"   
  
Clint dropped the device on the ground and smashed it with his heel. He lifted his head to Natasha, "What the hell was that?"   
  
She crossed her arms, "I wasn't the one about to reveal my knowledge of HYDRA over an untrusted line."   
  
Clint huffed, "I was talking to S.H.I.E.L.D., it's always a secure line."   
  
"But you can never be sure who's listening."   
  
Clint put his hands on his hips, "I needed to give them something so they'd listen."   
  
"It wasn't worth the risk, trust me. HYDRA doesn't need to know that S.H.I.E.L.D. knows about them."   
  
Clint took a step backwards and exhaled sharply. He ran his hand through his hair, "They're not going to listen to me now. We have to go to the States and talk to Fury in person. Show 'em that you're on our side."   
  
Clint headed for the window and pushed the ply wood out of the way. Natasha followed, "The States?"   
  
Clint turned his head to her, "What? You've never been to America?"   
  
Natasha shook her head. At least, not that I can remember , she thought.   
  
"Well, you're gonna love Big Macs," Clint quipped before hopping through the frame.

  
  
Back on the street, they made haste. "You gotta contact that can fly us over the pond?" Clint asked.   
  
"What pond?"   
  
Clint shook his head at himself, "The Atlantic."   
  
"Oh," Natasha nodded, "Yeah, but not in Hungry. For now, we have to focus on getting out of the city. We now have three organizations breathing down our backs."   
  
"And whose fault is that?"   
  
Natasha shot him a look, "I didn't ask you to do this and you gave me no choice."   
  
Clint huffed, "I gave you a choice."   
  
"Yeah, death or joining you."   
  
"Well, see, this is at least better than death."

“Not by much.”

Clint let out a short, breathy, laugh and shook his head. Natasha didn’t bother him with a question as to what he found so funny. In all honesty, she didn’t care. She wasn’t tagging along to make a friend, just to make an ally.

His smile faded soon after, and he turned his gaze to the ground, watching as little pebbles kicked up from his shoes. He was obviously pissed off after what she did, but there really was no choice. She had to think fast. They had the upper-hand as long as HYDRA still thought no organization knew about them. They’d get sloppy at some point, and S.H.I.E.L.D., if they were actually willing to help, would be there to swoop in and take them out.

Plus, he did try to kill only a few hours beforehand. So, she really didn’t feel that guilty.

Natasha moved her eyes from Clint to the ground. A silhouette of a person on a nearby roof created a shadow few paces in front of her. They’d been followed. Before Natasha could draw her guns, the person hopped from their perch landing directly in front of them, lifting a cloud of dust into the air with their boots.

Natasha moved her eyes from the ground, up the to the catsuited woman’s face, her long blonde hair whipped around in the wind. The second their eyes met, Natasha knew who she was, “Yelena.”

“ _Long time, no see, Natalia._ ”

“You know her?” Clint said, his bow raised against his face.

Yelena flicked her eyes over to Clint with a smile, “ _Who’s your new pet? Did you have to put the other one to sleep?_ ”

Natasha drew her guns. Yelena chuckled, “ _Touchy subject, I guess._ ”

“ _Why are you here?_ ”

Yelena crossed her arms, “ _What do you think, Talia? The KGB is tired of you fooling around destroying everything they’ve worked for, everything we’ve worked for. What’s that English saying?_ ‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks’? _And what’s the point of a show dog that doesn’t cooperate?_ ”

Clint lowered his eyebrows, “What’s with you and dead dog jokes?”

“And I guess that’s your touchy subject,” Yelena smirked.

Natasha cocked her guns, Yelena snapped her eyes to Natasha, “ _Why are you taking so long to long to shoot? You seemed pretty trigger happy the last time we spoke_ ,” she turned her head to Clint, “She didn’t leave an agent alive, except for me.”

Natasha moved her finger to the trigger. Yelena looked again to Natasha, “ _And now, why is that?_ ”

Natasha gritted her teeth, “ _Maybe I am getting a little tired of blood on my hands. I’m only going to spill yours if you make me, Yelena._ ”

Yelena drew her gun and shot Clint in the foot. Natasha jumped slightly at the sound. He let out a short howl, and released his bow arm, sending an arrow into the ground. Yelena lowered her gun, “ _I’m not here for negotiations, Romanova. My mission is to kill you, and unlike some people, I won’t let feelings get in the way of completing it._ ”

Clint grabbed his bow, and tried to reload it, but the pain from his wound was too much. He winced at the slightest movement, and clutched his foot. Natasha’s anger began to build, her breathing increased. She tried to lock eyes with Clint for just a moment to make sure he was going to be okay. Just okay enough to get out of here alive and convince S.H.I.E.L.D. to help her, of course. Natasha had no other use for him… obviously.

He looked at her and nodded slightly. Natasha aimed her guns back at Yelena’s head, who aimed her guns as well, “ _So, what’s it going to be? It’s your choice, Romanova_ , ” Yelena sneered, “ _How is this going to end?_ ”

  
  
  



	12. Budapest

Natasha knew she didn’t have long to make her decision. The impatience in Yelena’s eyes was growing faster than Natasha could think. Killing Yelena might get them out of this situation, but wouldn’t help them on a larger scale. They’d just replace Yelena with a new Black Widow, who could be even more fearsome. At least with Yelena, Natasha had some pull, a connection she could exploit. Yelena smirked and moved her gun over to Clint, aiming at his head. "Time's up--"

Natasha pulled the trigger and two shots flew at Yelena, one into her right wrist and the other into her shoulder. Yelena was thrown back by the force and landed on her back, kicking a cloud of dust up around her.

Natasha turned to Clint and helped him to his feet. "Can you walk?" Natasha asked.

Clint nodded, "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Clint looked to Yelena who was still motionless on the ground, "Is she dead?"

"No," Natasha shook her head, "Now let's go before she gets up."

"You're gonna let her live? She's KGB, right?"

Natasha swung Clint’s arm around her shoulders, "Yes, but, well, its a long story."

Clint winced, he looked to his foot then back to Natasha, “I think it’s important for me to know. When we get back to the states, I have to go up to bat for you. I need to know anything that might get us in trouble.”

Natasha shook her head, “Maybe later. We’ve got to get to a car, and get out of here. I doubt Yelena’s the only one that’s found us.”

They made their back into the inhabited part of town and Natasha pulled Clint in the direction of the first car she saw. She opened the passenger side door and helped him in. He winced again, Natasha parted her lips to ask him if he was okay, but he just nodded before she could say anything. She ran over to the drivers side, opening the door, and hoping into the seat.

Natasha reached down under the steering wheel, pulling off a panel and pulling out a handful of wires. She glanced over at Clint, his boot was off, and he was wrapping his foot with what looked like a piece of his shirt. Clint noticed Natasha’s focus was on him, “I’ll be fine, we’ve just got to get out of here.”

She nodded and looked back to the wires. The engine started with a grand roar. Natasha moved her hands up to the wheel and dropped her foot on the pedal. “I have a contact in Graz, will you be okay until then?”

Clint whipped his head to Natasha and blinked a few times, “Graz? You mean Graz, Austria?”

Natasha nodded. Clint looked at his foot then back to Natasha, “That’s like four hours away.”

“I can do it in three. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just focus on driving.”

Natasha made a hard right, tossing Clint at the car door. He glared at Natasha, she shrugged. She looked up to the traffic light as it was turning red and slammed hard on the break. Clint chuckled, “Three hours my a--”

His door flung open, and Clint was pulled forcibly from the car. Natasha threw open her door and drew her guns. She ran to the other side of the car. What was waiting for her on the other side made her feel as if the air was ripped from her lungs. He dropped Clint and turned to her. She tried to keep her guns steady as possible, trained on her target. His eyes bore holes in her heart. They were so familiar, yet so cold. Natasha’s body froze, she didn’t know what to do, “James?”

He tilted his head, then pulled out his guns. Natasha dove to take cover behind the car. She crawled underneath, making her way to the middle. She watched as James’ feet moved away from Clint. Clint’s eyes were closed, and Natasha couldn’t tell if he was breathing. She moved closer to him, “Agent Barton?”

He didn’t move. “Clint?”

James grabbed Natasha’s legs and dragged her out from under the car. She aimed her guns at his head, but couldn’t pull the trigger, “James?” she tried again.

He threw his arm back to get momentum for a punch, Natasha rolled out of the way and scrambled to her feet. She ran to the other side of the car, to Clint, “Come on, Clint. We have to go,” her voice shook with each word.

He didn’t respond. Natasha holstered her guns, and tossed Clint over her shoulder and made her way to an alleyway. James re-drew his guns and followed.

Natasha ran through the alley, but it soon became a dead end. She began to panic. She knew that James wouldn’t be too far behind, “I knew this day would come.”

Natasha sighed heavily, trying to catch her breath and hold tears back. Clint moaned, “What’s happening?” 

Natasha huffed with relief, she looked up around her for any way out. Her eyes landed on a fire escape. She made her way up the ladder, then up the stairs to the top of the building. “We’re kind of under attack. How’s the head?” Natasha said, setting Clint down then drawing her guns. 

“The head’s fine,” Clint rubbed his head, “Who’s after us now?”

Natasha peered over the side of the building, “Uh, Hydra.”

“Hydra?! Great, just fantastic.”

James turned a corner,  Natasha pulled back from the ledge and re-holstered her guns, “It’s worse than you think.”

“Now, how is that possible?”

Natasha glared at him. Clint’s mouth dropped open slightly, “Oh, he’s here, isn’t he?.”

Natasha nodded, then looked away. Clint sighed, “I’m sorry.”

She turned to him, shaking her head, “Don’t be. We just have to focus on getting out of here. Are you able to walk at all?”

“Help me up, and we’ll see.”

Natasha grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet, keeping her hands on him as he gained his balance. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll manage. Let’s go.”

Natasha and Clint ran to the edge of the building they stood on, looking down to the roof of the building next to them. Natasha hopped down effortlessly, and Clint followed, grunting slightly.

“We need to get back to the car, and--”

A gunshot echoed through the buildings. Natasha looked down, blood was pouring out of the lower left side of her abdomen. Clint grabbed her and dropped behind a air conditioning unit. Natasha put her hands over the wound. Clint peaked over the top of the AC unit, but James was no longer visible in the alley.

Clint looked back to Natasha, “He’s gone. Are you okay?”

Natasha stared blankly ahead, “He won’t be gone for long.”

“I know, but are you okay?”

Clint moved Natasha blood covered hands out of the way to get a look at her wound. He put her hands back, and leaned her forward. A small hole resided in her back as well. Clint sighed, “At least the bullet isn’t in you, right? That’s a good thing.”

Natasha didn’t say anything. Clint leaned her back against the AC. She just stared at her hands. “I don’t know how far I can get you.”

Natasha shook her head, “I can walk.”

She put her hands on the AC and pushed herself up, Clint assisted her to her feet. “Are you sure about this?” Clint asked.

“We have to move. Is there a fire escape on the back of this building?”

Clint limped over to the edge and looked down, “Yeah, there is.”

Natasha walked over to Clint as fast as she could. James had been gone too long, she knew he could be back any minute. She didn’t want to face him again. She couldn’t. She knew if she had to chose between herself and him, she’d chose to protect him. She couldn’t imagine looking him in the eyes as she took his life. Not after everything they had together, not when he still meant so much to her. But she was in no shape to incapacitate him either. Her best bet was just to make it to the car, and drive as fast as she could to Austria.

They got back down to the alley. Natasha tried to keep running, but she wobbled on her feet. Clint caught her, and held her up, putting her arm around his neck, “I guess it’s time to return the favor.”

Clint led her to the end of the alley. He stopped and looked around the corner both ways, there was no sign of James, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t close. Clint eyed the car, it sat over 100 feet away. There was no way they could run fast enough to make it without being spotted, but there was no time to hot wire another car. Clint began to panic, he looked to Natasha.

She looked around, then looked to the car, “We have to just run.”

“Neither of us are in the condition to do that.”

“We don’t have time to discuss this.”

Natasha pulled herself away from Clint and drew her guns. Clint unhooked his bow from his quiver, “Okay then.”

“Ready?”

Clint nodded, “Let’s go.”

They both ran from the cover of the alley in a beeline to the car, both of their eyes were fixed on their surroundings for any sign of James or any Hydra agents. But before they could do anything, James came out from a behind a car, and tackled Natasha to the ground. Clint stopped running and turned to them, “No!” he shouted.

The tackle had knocked Natasha’s guns from her hands, she frantically felt around for them on the asphalt. James threw a punch to her face, she let out a short grunt. Clint pulled up his bow, aiming an arrow directly at James’ head. Natasha looked over to him, “Clint, don’t!”

Clint didn’t move a muscle. James stood, and began walking in Clint’s direction. Clint released the arrow, but it only grazed the soldier’s side. Natasha got to her feet and wrapped her arms tightly around the James’ neck. It gave Clint a chance to duck behind a car, but James quickly broke out of Natasha’s hold. He pulled a knife from his belt and swung it at Natasha, she hopped back. He swung again, she grabbed his arm, trying to stop it before it touched her, but he was stronger than her. He pulled his arm out of Natasha’s hands and backhanded her, throwing her onto the car behind her.

James walked up to her and jutted the knife at her again. Natasha slid to the right, leaving a streak of blood on the white-painted car. James’ knife missed her and instead pierced the car. He moved over to her and jabbed his arm towards Natasha’s head. She grabbed his arm and held it off. Clint stood up and out of the cover of the car, “Natalia!”

James stopped, holding his knife still. He swallowed hard, “Natalia?”

Natasha let out a short, relieved sigh, “James?”

He didn’t say anything, still holding his knife inches away from Natasha’s face. “James, it’s me. It’s Natalia. Don’t you remember?”

“Who’s Natalia?”

Natasha’s lip quivered, “Me, James. I’m Natalia.”

James searched Natasha’s face, but something still wasn’t clicking for him. Natasha blinked tears back, “Natalia, from the red room. Remember her? Remember?”

James dropped his arm, the knife fell from his hand. He started to breathe heavily, Natasha reached out to comfort him. He pulled away from her and darted down the street. Natasha tried to follow, but her gunshot wound was holding her back. All she could do was watch as he turned the street corner and disappeared out of sight. Natasha dropped to her knees.

Clint ran up behind her. “You okay?” he said, while frantically pulling her to her feet. He bent down, then picked her up, one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back.

Natasha didn’t say anything, Clint looked to her, “Natalia?”

Natasha nodded, “We need to go.”

Clint made his way to the car as fast as possible. He opened the back seat door and gently put Natasha in. He closed the door, then limped to the driver’s side. Hopping in and starting the car, using his non-injured foot to drive. “Natalia, do you have any closer contacts?”

Clint glanced into the rear view mirror. Natasha’s eyes were closed, but she was still breathing. “Natalia? Hey, Natalia, you gotta stay awake.”

Natasha’s eyes fluttered open. “Natalia?”

Natasha groaned. Clint sighed, relieved, “Do you have any closer contacts? Or a safe house?”

“No, Graz is the closest.”

“Then we’re just gonna have to improvise ‘cause you aren’t going to make it that long.”

“I can handle it.”

Natasha pushed herself up to a sitting position, taking off her jacket. She unzipped her stealth uniform, slipping her arms out of the sleeves and then taking off the shirt underneath it. She folded the shirt, so the straps laid on top of each other and then wrapped it around her abdomen and tied it behind her back. She slipped her arms back into the sleeves of her uniform and zipped it back up. “That should hold,” Natasha said, winded.

Clint glanced at her in the rear-view mirror, “For three hours?”

“It’s going to have to.”

Clint turned his eyes back to the road, and put more weight on the gas pedal. He knew Natasha wouldn’t last three hours, not in her condition. But he had to make sure they were out of harms way and that Hydra wasn’t following them. He figured that Natasha had been in a situation like this before. The Black Widow had to have her fair share of fatal wounds.

But he couldn’t let her die, that wasn’t an option at this point. Even if her death would make him look better to S.H.I.E.L.D., it wasn’t worth it. Not now. Not after what she did for him. She could have killed him, he knew he was outmatched when he drew his bow on her. But she spared him, most likely for safety, but she spared him none the less.

 

They arrived in Graz around midday. Natasha was still holding up fine. Clint lifted her out of the back seat and walked with her up to the door of her contact. Natasha knocked three staccato knocks on the door. “ _Who’s there?_ ” a woman’s voice said in German after a moment.

Clint opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha stopped him, shaking her head, “ _I’m here for tea._ ”

A handful clicks were heard, then the door opened, “ _Come in_ ,” the voice said.

Clint walked inside the house, the room was small. Clint noticed four adjoining doors, all closed. A small, beat up loveseat sat to his right. Above that was the only window in the room, most of the glass in the pane had been broken, a trash bag duct taped to the frame covered where the glass had been. Clint laid Natasha down on the loveseat.

The woman who opened the door walked over to Natasha looking her over once and then disappearing behind one of the doors. She emerged a moment later with a tin first aid kit in hand. Natasha sat up, removing the her arms from her stealth suit and untying the undershirt from around her abdomen. The woman took out a bottle of antiseptic and wetted a small cotton cloth, then dabbed Natasha’s wound. “ _What happened?_ ” the woman said.

“ _I was shot,_ ” Natasha said with a bit of sass.

The woman shook her head, “ _Yes, I see that. Is the bullet still inside you?_ ”

Clint shook his head, “ _No, it went right through her._ ”

Natasha bent forward so the woman could treat the wound on Natasha’s back. The woman wetted the cloth again and dabbed the wound, “ _You'll need stitches._ ”

“ _I figured._ ”

The woman turned to Clint, “ _Can you go to the kitchen and grab me a bottle of vodka from the cabinet?_ ”

Clint nodded and the woman pointed to the door closest to the love seat, “ _The cabinet on the left when you first walk in_.”

  
Clint walked into the kitchen, which was small, only enough standing room for three or four adults. The floor was mostly covered with unmarked cardboard boxes. The top box on one stack was open, Clint caught a glimpse of what looked like ammo of some sort. He turned to his left and opened the cabinet, which was full over every type of alcohol known to man. He grabbed the vodka bottle and walked back into the living room. “ _Close the door behind you,_ ” the woman said.

Clint closed the door and handed her the vodka, which she then handed to Natasha, “ _Drink, you’ll need it_.”

Natasha took a big swig of vodka and then set the bottle between her legs. The woman picked up the needle she had threaded and began sowing Natasha’s wounds shut. Natasha winced in pain, and took another swig when it became too much. Clint stood by, wincing along with her.

 

When the woman was done, she put bandages over the wounds, and covered Natasha in a blanket. “ _She’ll need to rest, at least for tonight_ ,” the woman said to Clint.

Clint nodded, “ _She’ll be okay if we leave tomorrow_?”

 “ _It shouldn’t be a problem. She’s lost quite a bit of blood, so nothing too extraneous, which I know is easier said than done._ ”

Clint shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and a splitting pain ran up his leg. He had been so focused on getting Natasha help, that he forgot he was injured himself. The woman turned to him, Clint pointed down, “ _My foot._ ”

 The woman sighed, “ _I’ll take a look at it.”_

 

After the woman patched him up, she walk into the kitchen, and later brought out some food for both him and Natasha. She laid Natasha’s food next to the loveseat and handed Clint his, for which he thanked her. She nodded and then disappeared through another door.

Clint ate his food, and then began getting together their plan for the next day. They need to get to the States in order to convince Fury in person that Natasha is a good person, and an unmatchable ally. Natasha had said she knew someone who could fly them to the states, but she didn’t say where, just that they weren’t in Hungary. When she woke up, he would ask her. But for now, she needed her rest. He wondered how long it had been since she last got a good night sleep.

 

The next morning, Natasha was up before him. She was talking on the phone in Italian, in a blunt tone. Italian was one of the languages Clint knew, not well, but he could pick up bits and pieces. The person on the phone must’ve been the contact Natasha mentioned, the word “plane” came up more than others.

Natasha hung up the phone and turned to Clint, “Are we getting a ride?” he asked.

Natasha nodded, “They will be waiting whenever we get to Belluno, Italy. We should leave no later than noon, we can get to Belluno by 5:00 and then fly to the States from there.”

“Did you tell them where we’ll be landing in the States?”

“No, I wasn’t sure where would be the best place to go.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D’s headquarters are in D.C, we should fly to Maryland or at least Delaware.”

Natasha nodded, “Okay, I’ll tell him when we get there.”

Both of them were silent for a second, then Natasha turned to him again, “Are you sure we won’t have any problems when we get there? How are you going to go about contacting your director? We can’t just walk into S.H.I.E.L.D’s headquarters.”

“I still have friends within S.H.I.E.L.D. They’ll be willing to help, I promise.”

Natasha sighed and put her hands on her hips, “I’m putting a lot of trust in you, if you betray me in anyway, don’t expect to live. Do you understand?”

“Loud and clear.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr at: http://kateromanoffcarter.tumblr.com/


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